Ring of Ice
by caldera32
Summary: Merlin is immediately suspicious of a visiting noble- little does he know the man also has eyes on the servant.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this yet- or on writing it like _this_, but it just assaulted me today.  
In fact, this was supposed to be the second in a small series (or third, if I wrote a little prologue) so now I feel like Brian Jacques or something, writing stories out of sequence. But then again, this has deviated enough from my original concept I should probably count it as a different story... *renames it*  
I really cannot decide what genres are appropriate- if you guys have any suggestions as you read, please share.

Warning: I considered rating this one 'M' and may yet change it due to the actions of an _exceedingly_ creepy villain. This, while not unusual in the scope of the fandom, will go beyond what I ever expected to write myself and includes the sort of thing I typically avoid reading. I expect the foreshadowing will be enough to warn you more specifically before we get to any _events_, but if you want a more thorough warning before reading feel free to pm me (I don't want to completely give it away here).

* * *

Merlin shifted uncomfortably in his spot with the other castle servants waiting to fulfill their duties in helping the visiting Lord Livenn and his entourage settle into their guest quarters.

Something about the noble set him on edge, and he could _swear_ the man's arrival had made the courtyard grow colder.

He _looked_ like a typical noble- overweight from an abundance of luxurious food, clothes more ornate than the king or queen were wearing, a generally disinterested air as he exchanged pleasantries with King Arthur. He was sweating slightly from the exertion of getting out of his carriage and walking across the flagstones. Merlin was uncertain if the pink tinge of his flesh was the natural shade or another side-effect of the exercise. His short, mousy brown hair and plump face mostly obscured his dark eyes, only increasing the warlock's (so far) unfounded distrust of the man. Plus, his cloak was black.

Merlin felt a bit childish for thinking cloak color mattered, but he had a bad history with people who preferred black.

Greetings complete, the royal party was leading Livenn toward the banquet hall, the man's two personal guards trailing behind.

The servants sprang into action then, directing the noble's remaining guards toward the small barracks reserved for visiting troops as they themselves scooped up various chests and belongings to be delivered to the appropriate quarters.

Merlin took charge of Livenn's scribe; a thin, nervous-looking man who was probably only a year or two younger than the warlock himself.  
"If you would follow me, I'll show you your chambers."

"A-are they near Lord Livenn's?" The youth stammered slightly, apparently hesitant to ask.

"No, I'm sorry. Chambers for the nobility are placed closer to the king's. Yours, I'm afraid, are nearer the servants' quarters."

Contrary to Merlin's expectations, the scribe seemed relieved.  
"Oh, that's quite alright- I'm sure they'll be just fine!"

The servant frowned slightly as he turned, a bit worried at the other man's reaction.  
"This way, then."

He hefted the scribe's kit and led the way across the courtyard.

* * *

After dropping off his charge, Merlin went straight to the banquet hall and took up his position behind Arthur, pitcher of wine in hand as he eavesdropped on the conversation without appearing to do so.

Livenn had glanced back at him when he arrived, but appeared to ignore him otherwise.

His conversation with the king and queen was perfectly ordinary, nothing suspicious in his choices of topic or opinions expressed, and the servant began to relax the tiniest amount- until Arthur beckoned him forward to refill his goblet and the lord _leered _at him as he bent forward.

Merlin retreated a bit further back than he had been standing previously, highly unnerved by the look he had seen flash across the piggish man's face (pink _was_ his natural tinge).

His new position was too far away to hear what was being said, but he could see that Arthur disapproved of whatever Livenn was suggesting- though the change in expression was too subtle for the noble to have detected. The king shook his head, spoke a few words, and Livenn settled back into his seat; starting up another conversation as if the previous one hadn't happened.

* * *

Feast complete, Merlin helped Arthur divest himself of his formal clothes before he shrugged on a nightshirt.

"Merlin."

The servant, who had been about to leave for the night, turned back to his master.  
"Yes, Sire?"

"I want you to take a few days away from the castle. Visit your mother, collect some herbs for Gaius, whatever you like- just don't come back until Thursday."

Thursday, the day after Livenn was scheduled to leave.

"Is something the matter, Sire?"

"Nothing, I just thought you might like some time off, is all."

"Now I _know _something's wrong."

"_Merlin,_ I-" Arthur sighed "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I need you to _listen_ to me. There are some... _unsavory_ rumors about Livenn's treatment of manservants and... and he requested to 'borrow' you during his visit. I told him you would be too busy assisting Gaius and likely would be away from the town most of the time. Merlin, I want that to be true- please just find someplace else to be while he's here. _Please._"

Merlin stared at his king, more shocked by his pleading tone and open show of concern than the news about Lord Livenn.  
Still, there was no way he could leave Arthur alone while that suspicious man was in the castle.  
Of course, he wouldn't _say_ as much.

"Alright. I'll leave in the morning. I'm sure Gaius would appreciate his herbs being restocked."  
He gave Arthur a weak smile and the king visibly relaxed.

"Good. Just make sure to get another servant to cover you while you're gone- _not George_."

"Of course, Sire."  
The grin this time was genuine.

* * *

"Gaius?"

"Yes?" The physician looked up from his book, glasses near to slipping off his nose.

"Arthur has instructed me to stay away from the castle for the next few days while Lord Livenn is here so I'll be leaving first thing in the morning."

The old man looked incredulous.  
"Arthur gave you time off? You're actually going?"  
He wasn't sure which was more remarkable.

His ward beamed back at him.

"You know me better than that, Gaius. I'll just be hiding out- probably in Kilgharrah's old cave since they're not guarding it anymore."  
He stopped, once more feeling unsettled. "There's something about Livenn, I don't trust him."

Gaius smiled reassuringly.  
"Well, if he's up to something I'm sure you'll find out."

"Thanks, Gaius." He gave his mentor a hug. "See you Thursday at the latest."

* * *

Birds tittered in the pre-dawn light as Merlin gathered up his satchel, thankful he had packed before going to bed for the night.

He slipped out his door and down the short flight of steps, magically resettled the blankets about Gaius's slumbering frame, and out into the corridor.  
He was almost feeling excited about his pseudo-holiday when a foul-smelling cloth was shoved over his mouth and nose from behind and he found himself floating into unawareness as he breathed in the noxious fumes.

_Why is it always like this?_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I gave myself the creeps writing this guy- and of course it's only going to get worse. *shudders*

* * *

Merlin woke slowly, the last vestiges of the drug clawing at his consciousness.  
Above him was an unfamiliar ceiling- not that he made a habit of memorizing ceilings, mind you, but this one was neither the plain wooden planks of the physician's chambers nor the carved beams of the royal apartments.

He looked to the side and realized he was lying on a small table, arms bent uncomfortably around the underside and tied together. The table was much shorter than he and his legs dangled at the knee. They, at least, didn't seem to be bound, but he hadn't yet regained the strength to move them properly. He grimaced at the feel of the blood pooling in his feet- he must have been in this position for a fairly good amount of time.

Not that he could tell from his surroundings. There was only a single candle lit on the opposite side of the large room, revealing a shuttered window and little else.

About to use magic and escape, Merlin was alerted to another's presence by the sound of fabric shifting somewhere nearby.

"Finally awake? I suppose I should have expected it, little waif that you are."  
The words were not complementary, but the lord said them with something akin to satisfaction.

The voice had come from somewhere above Merlin's head, just beyond his range of sight.  
He tensed in anticipation.

"Aw, there's no need to be so nervous. Relax."  
Livenn's sickly-sweet tone made the servant shiver involuntarily.

"How cute!" The noble exclaimed, stepping up to the head of the table and looking down into Merlin's eyes.

_What does he want?_ He thought to himself, afraid he already knew the answer.

"I won't tell you anything, if that's what you're looking for."

Livenn clapped his hands delightedly.  
"Isn't that just precious, he thinks I want _information_. "  
He cupped a hand around Merlin's temple and stroked his cheekbone with a thumb.  
Cold seemed to radiate from that hand and the servant flinched from that as well as the contact.

_No. No. I will _not_ allow this._  
The warlock prepared to fling the man away, not even thinking about the possible consequences.

A horrifyingly familiar shriek pierced the air as Merlin realized he _couldn't_ do any magic.  
He felt it there, warm and comforting, but when he called for it the spark died out before even reaching his irises.

Eyes filled with terror, he looked at the lord above him, now smiling down with gratification.

"Like it?" He held his hand in front of his captive's face, revealing a ring with an unusual spherical setting.  
"I got it from a sorcerer a few years back- payment for not turning him in to King Uther."

Merlin stared at the dark orb, sensing that this is where his initial unease had come from along with the cold aura.

_It can't be... they were all sent back._

Then something swirled inside the stone and the ghoulish countenance of a dorocha appeared in miniature, another muted scream breaking the silence.

"No need to fear. _I_ control how much of its influence escapes the confines of the ring. If you give me what I want you need never feel its touch."

Merlin shivered again, remembering his first experience with a dorocha's 'touch'.

"I won't give you _anything._" He spat out.

Levinn's smile broadened.  
"Then I suppose it's a good thing I also enjoy _taking._"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I've been listening to creepy music while I write these... now I feel like someone's sneaking up on me *checks behind herself*  
Decided to change one of the genre designations to 'horror' since that's what I feel while writing.  
I'm freaking myself out- why the heck am I writing this?! Stupid brain, stupid rabid plot bunnies of doom...

* * *

"Now, where shall we begin? Oh, I know!"  
He plucked the ring from his finger with his gloved left hand, then took a firm hold of the servant's chin.  
Merlin tensed further in confusion and fearful anticipation.

He _hated_ this. Hated feeling powerless, being _afraid.  
This must be what Arthur thinks I feel like all the time...  
No wonder he calls me a coward._

Livenn placed the stone against Merlin's mouth and began moving it back and forth as if he were applying lip paints. The warlock tried to jerk out of the way of the freezing ring, feeling frost forming on his face, but only succeeded in getting part of his cheeks and tongue numbed along with his lips. He had thought getting hit with the first dorocha was bad, but it had only lasted a moment- this dragged on until the lord was satisfied he could no longer move his mouth and lingered much more strongly.

"There we go, can't have you yelling, can we?"  
He slid the ring back onto his finger, dorocha facing inward toward his palm.  
The noble grasped at dark hair with painful force and began stroking Merlin's throat, leaving a bitingly cold trail in his wake.

"Best trade I ever made, this little toy. So much more reliable than a gag- and the cold can make things more... _exciting_ later."

Merlin _did not_ want to think about what that meant.

"Well, now that that's done we better get rid of these clothes before the drugs wear off enough for you to fight back."  
The pig drew out a small knife and cut the servant's shirt from collar to navel, stopping to remove the belt there before tearing the rest of the shirt by hand.

The young man was now shivering uncontrollably from cold and terror as Livenn opened his ruined shirt and stared at his bare chest.

"Hmmm... looks like this isn't the first time you've been someone's plaything."  
He ran a fingertip along one of Merlin's scars appreciatively.  
"We may get to that later, when you'll appreciate the hot blood running down your cold flesh."

He wanted _so much_ to just block everything out, pretend this wasn't happening- but he knew he had to stay aware and look for an escape opportunity.  
Surely there would be one, a servant would come, the guards would hear something- ah, but Livenn had his own personal guards.

_They've probably heard it all before._  
The scribe's earlier behavior suddenly made tragic sense.

But now Livenn was reaching for his waistline and he tried his hardest to revolt, but neither body nor magic would answer his attempts.

The lord loosened the button, then moved to the other end of the table to remove Merlin's boots and socks before tugging the trousers off mere inches at a time.

The servant was just grateful his small-clothes had somehow managed to stay in place despite the friction.

"We'll leave those on for now- wouldn't want you to freeze."  
The noble was grinning lasciviously and Merlin felt his trembling intensify.

_Move- curse you!_ He mentally growled at his legs, which jerked pitifully in response.

Still, the motion was enough to draw attention and Livenn placed his gloved hand on Merlin's left knee.

"Ah ah ah, can't have that..." the lord ran his ringed hand along the top of the servant's right thigh as the younger man tried desperately to fight back or at least twist away- only resulting in some weak movement of his feet that resembled twitching more than kicking along with some slight shifting of his hips and shoulders. The cold spread slowly out from point of contact, gradually reaching the rest of his leg and ceasing the motion there entirely.

"Mmm... this makes me want to see what you're like when you can _really_ resist."  
That salacious smile had only grown and the man reached forward to run the ringed hand along his left inner thigh.

The panic was close to overwhelming him now.  
He could hardly even _feel_ his legs, let alone move them, and further attempts to speak had only produced the softest of whimpers.

_Someone, someone help me!_

"I imagine you're hoping someone will come to save you, but don't they all believe you've taken an extended trip out into the woods? They won't even know anything is wrong, especially since I made sure to have your things collected."

Merlin squeezed his eyelids closed, certain his eyeballs must be rolling in terror by now.  
Quickly running out of options, he sent out a mental plea for aid- hoping against hope that someone in the castle would hear and bring help.

If he could, he may have laughed derisively at his own efforts- what other magical person would be foolish enough to live in Camelot?  
He already knew Gaius had no aptitude for mind-speech.

Well, beggars can't be choosers. Merlin would even be relieved if _Mordred_ heard his call.  
He may have his doubts about the boy's future, but for now he seemed to be a good sort.

Unfortunately for Merlin, Mordred was currently out on patrol, and there were no other Camelotians with the ability to hear his call- even Kilgharrah was out of range.

Blissfully unaware of these facts, the warlock allowed himself to cling to hope.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I feel like some sort of deviant. Curse you Livenn.

* * *

"I'll give you some time to recover. It's good to have a _little_ sport, after all."  
Livenn retreated beyond Merlin's sight once more and the sound of a blade being sharpened echoed in the dark chambers.

Hoping the distance between them would be enough, the warlock once again tried to cast a spell- to no avail.

_Fine. Fine. It's okay, you'll find another way._

With the lord no longer hovering over him Merlin was able to get a grip on his emotions, his breathing evened and his tremors mostly subsided.

_You can't allow him to do this to you. He's letting you regain your strength, take advantage of that._

He relaxed his body as much as possible and tried to coax the warmth in his chest- his magic- to spread throughout his chilled limbs with little effect.

_It just _had_ to be a dorocha..._

Now that his mind was off other things, he began to take note of the extreme discomfort of his arms, still bent and tied under the table- much longer and it might cause permanent damage.

_One more thing to pile on top of this- and how much sharpening does that tiny blade need?_

The sound was beginning to grow annoying, though he was sure it was supposed to be intimidating.

_The pig is clearly out of shape, you can take advantage of that._

He wasn't sure _how_, seeing as he could really only move his torso, but he had to find _some_ way of encouraging himself.

Suddenly, Livenn's face filled his vision and he winced under the man's intense gaze.  
"Look's like the drugs have released their hold on you- now it's _my_ turn."

Merlin screwed his eyes shut in spite of himself.

"Oh no, I want to see those pretty blue orbs of yours."  
The lord cupped the servant's pale cheek almost tenderly, holding one of his eyes open with his gloved fingers while half of his face seemed to ice over.

"I'll let you close the other one if you like- I _can_ be generous, after all."  
The noble chuckled to himself.

"I'm almost sorry I won't be able to hear you squeal..."  
It was difficult to glare defiantly with one eye literally frozen in pain and terror, but Merlin gave it a valiant effort.  
Livenn only laughed and pulled off his glove.

"The only problem with my little ice ring here is the darkness- doesn't like light, you know- makes it hard to see you. Then again, _feeling _you is much more exhilarating."

Merlin bucked violently, trying to escape the man's grasping hands, arcing his back and wrenching his shoulders until he felt one give way with a sickening 'pop'.  
He dropped back down onto the table, trying to curl in on himself to protect the dislocated limb- something made impossible by his bonds and partial paralysis.  
He was whimpering again, but no longer cared.

Piercing cold rested on his shoulder and the pain numbed.  
He was relieved that the agony had gone, but not thankful to have been denied unconsciousness.

Livenn slapped him hard across the face, the burning sensation somehow intensifying the cold there.  
"I wanted you to fight, but that doesn't mean you can injure yourself- that's _my_ prerogative."  
Livenn 'tsk'ed, returning to his ministrations.

The servant, now only barely able to move his hips and left shoulder, had much more difficulty avoiding the fingers tracing the various scars on his chest.

"How did you get all these, I wonder?"  
He stared into Merlin's eyes as if he could find the answer there.  
"Is the back intricately carved as well?"

His left hand snaked around the warlock's hip and slipped under his back, probing fingers finding the remains of the serket sting.

"Hmm... seems I'll have to turn you around later. But first..."  
Livenn used a chair to climb onto the table and straddled the servant's weakly protesting form.  
Had the situation been less dire, Merlin would've been impressed the furniture could even hold him.

"You're much more muscled than I expected, but it looks good on you... so lean..."  
The fingers were back, this time outlining his abdominal muscles.  
He shrank away from the touch, inadvertently tightening his abs.

"Perfect," Livenn breathed "let's keep them that way."  
The ring was back, its icy setting dipping partway into Merlin's navel and making him feel physically ill with the concentrated cold right at his center.

He was shuddering again- probably had been for some time but only noticed now that he was no longer moving of his own volition.

The lord's hands roved across his victim's chest, fingers walking up his sternum to play with the hair there, nails tracing scars and muscles, both repeatedly returning to circle the large burn at the center of his breastbone. Then he cupped his hand under the servant's armpit, palm moving downward in a twisted parody of a caress.

Cold fire blossomed on Merlin's side, effectively removing any remaining hopes of mobility.

"Just the right side- wouldn't want to stop your heart."  
The 'yet' hung in the air, unspoken.

Panic fogged the warlock's brain and his chest heaved as much as possible with nearly half of it forced into stillness.

Livenn leaned back to survey his work like a painter observing a canvas, settling his substantial girth on Merlin's hips.  
The servant felt as if he were breaking, the weight and heat of the other body causing excruciating pain in his own frigid one.

"The blue _is_ lovely, but I think we should add some red for contrast."  
He pulled out the knife he had so diligently sharpened and gently ran it along the warlock's skin, deciding where to make the first cut.

Merlin closed his single free eye as the blade bit into his flesh, carving some inscrutable design under Livenn's direction.  
As the noble's attentions continued the servant's slight cries grew progressively weaker, his left shoulder only managing to tremble slightly.

_No one's coming for me..._

"Beautiful."  
The lord slid his finger down the newly blood-soaked skin, then brought it up to his mouth to lick the digit clean of crimson liquid.

Merlin felt the man shifting above him and something hard poked him in the stomach.

_No. Nonononononononono..._

He felt hands slip around his throat and his eye flew open.  
Lord Livenn was fixing him with a lustful gaze, grip tightening on his neck.

It seemed he was restricting the power of the ring, since Merlin felt only a small point of cold on his spine, but still it crept inexorably up toward his skull.  
The physician's ward briefly wondered which would be better: suffocation or his brain freezing over.

But Livenn wasn't that merciful.  
The hands drew back just as blackness started to creep into his vision; one coming up to his face, the thumb rubbing his lips.

Merlin had been fighting his body's instinct to gasp for air, instead trying to make himself pass out from the lack.

"Such a pretty thing you are to be so recalcitrant. Here, let me help you."  
Livenn wrenched the servant's jaws open, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Merlin's own; forcing air into and out of abused lungs.

The servant coughed weakly, panting a bit as the lord withdrew, not even able to close his gaping mouth.

"Look at you, you tease."  
Livenn sat up and removed his belt, fumbling with his breeches in haste.  
"I can't wait any longer."

Merlin's mind had already retreated in a haze of cold, pain, oxygen deprivation, and horror; otherwise he might have heard the door bursting open.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm too sensitive to write this stuff- makes me so relieved when it's over. Seriously, if I'm watching a show and it gets depressing, I'm depressed until it gets better (anyone seen "Full Moon wo Sagashite"? Yeah, the second half of that ruined my life until I finished it); if I'm writing a character's suffering, _I_ suffer.  
I'm tired of shivering! So glad we're headed toward the conclusion here. (Not to say that I won't keep writing whump- and no, I'm not a masochist. Call it a case of "no pain, no gain".) *goes back to huddling under her blanket*

At least this chapter was a respite.

* * *

Arthur stared at the documents in front of him without reading them.  
He had the entire morning free- _Lord Livenn_ having insisted on not having any meetings until after lunch.

Something about the man just set his teeth on edge.  
And then there were the rumors, coupled with his request for Merlin's services...

He shook his head, attempting to dislodge those thoughts.

No sense in making judgments solely on rumor, and Merlin was safe- the king confirmed with Gaius that he had left early that morning, even before the physician himself had risen.

_If only he could get up that early on a regular basis..._

No, there was no reason to worry- so why did he have such an unsettled feeling in his chest?

* * *

Errol was conflicted.

It was some time ago he had heard the voice in his head, calling for help in a desperate voice.  
All that time had passed and he still didn't know what he should do about it.

He recognized the voice- it was the servant who had led him to his room the previous day.  
He knew that tone too, was intimately familiar with what- _who_- caused it.

The scribe had considered warning the other man, realizing he was just the type his master would go after, but didn't think the lord would actually do anything in Camelot. (Right under the nose of the king himself! Had the man no shame?)

He wanted to help, but still he was conflicted.

How was he supposed to explain to the _king_ of _Camelot_ that he had heard the servant crying for help _in his head?_  
In fact, how could he even be sure he _had_ heard him? Maybe it was just something conjured by his guilty conscience. Yes, that was probably it.

So, if that was the case, then why was he still pacing?

_I'll just go by milord's chambers and if anything is suspicious, _then_ I'll look for help._

_**But you **_**know****_ there wouldn't be anything suspicious, even if he _is_ doing something._**  
His conscience argued.

"Argh!" He yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration.  
"Okay, I'll just walk by, then I'll tell someone I thought I heard something."

He made another circuit of the room, still engaged in internal debate.

_What if Livenn sees me there? He definitely wouldn't let me be..._

The youth shuddered, hugging himself to garner some small amount of comfort.

_I can't stand that again... but I can't let someone else go through it either._

His resolve began to strengthen.

_And if he _is_ doing something the king surely wouldn't let him get off easily- right? Especially since it's his personal servant..._

Errol nodded to himself, gathered his courage, and headed out into the corridor.

* * *

There was a knock at his door and Arthur gave up any pretense of working.  
"Enter."

A guard stepped inside and stood at attention.  
"Sire, there is a young man here- Lord Livenn's scribe Errol. He says he has something important to tell you."

A blond eyebrow rose in curiosity, though his feeling of unease intensified.  
"Show him in."

A gangly, skittish youth was ushered into the room where he stopped and gave a deep bow.  
"Sire, there is... something you should know."

"Yes?"

The man hesitated, seeming to lose confidence for a moment before continuing.  
"My master, L-lord Livenn... I..." he swallowed thickly "I believe he has your servant, Sire."

Errol was prepared to say more, but the king had already swept past him, barking orders to his guards.

* * *

Arthur marched swiftly and purposefully toward Lord Livenn's chambers, hand firmly clasped on the hilt of his sword and murder in his eyes.

_If he so much as raised a hand against him, so help me..._

The _king_ wasn't sure what he would do, but _Arthur_ had some ideas.

He soon reached the visiting noble's chambers and ordered the man's personal guard aside.  
A voice issued from within, but it was too soft to comprehend through the door.

"Watch them." He commanded his own guards.  
"No one is to enter unless I call- don't let anyone escape."  
If Merlin were in a... _compromising_ position it would be best if no one else were present.

The Camelot guards nodded in understanding and took up their new posts.

Arthur took a breath, steeling himself for what he may find, then charged into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Had to force myself to come back to this one- kinda wanted to leave it now that Arthur had arrived. But no, even without the matter of how inconsiderate that would be for you the readers I still need to finish this so I can exorcise Lord Livenn *shudders*

I know it's short, but more should be forthcoming soon

* * *

Arthur blinked in the darkness, hardly able to make anything out as his eyes adjusted to the light of the single candle.  
Regardless, neither of the room's occupants seemed to have noticed his presence.

The scene was still dim and unclear to him but it was obvious that Merlin was in trouble, Lord Livenn hovering above him with hands tugging at his own waistband.

"Step away from him." Arthur growled dangerously, drawing his sword and pointing it in the man's direction.

The noble was clearly startled, but instead of retreating he picked up a knife from the table, holding it to the servant's neck.

"He's _mine!_ You can't have him!"

The king cursed himself.  
He should have _known_ the man would have a weapon- should have waited 'til he was in reach to announce his presence.

An odd expression flashed across the man's face and his eyes flicked to his victim and back.  
"Or is this _your_ work? If so, you have my compliments. That burn is especially-"

Arthur had no idea what the _pig_ was blathering on about, but he wasn't about to let him continue speaking when Merlin was lying there completely still and silent.

"You let him go _right now_ or _so help me-_"

"Or what?" Livenn pushed the knife closer, drawing blood. Merlin didn't even flinch.  
"You'll kill me? The look on your face says you'll do so regardless."

The king grit his teeth.  
"Leave him and I will be lenient."

The lord tilted his head as if considering the offer, pulling the blade back slightly.  
"If I can't have him, neither can you." He snarled, plunging the weapon towards the servant's chest.

Arthur, who had begun moving as soon as the knife was no longer against Merlin's skin, felt as if time had slowed to a crawl.  
The air felt like molasses as he reeled back his arm and launched his sword, praying it would reach its mark in time.

Livenn gurgled, blood bubbling out of his mouth as the sword jutted from his chest.  
He had dropped his own blade, but as his body fell he reached out a hand and pressed it against his victim's chest.  
Life quickly leaving him, the lord smirked.

"_I win._" He whispered, then died.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I feel so much better now, though I suddenly have a desire to re-watch "Full Moon..."  
Maybe I will... just the happy half...

* * *

A dagger of ice embedded itself in his heart, tearing him from his daze.

_Is this it, then?_

He looked out from his single clear eye and caught sight of a familiar figure above him.  
The king appeared to be yelling but Merlin couldn't hear a sound.  
His whole body had developed a very heavy feeling and his ears seemed to be stuffed with wool.

He wasn't sure if the cold had receded or if he had simply lost all his senses- it certainly _seemed_ as if his brain had detached itself from the rest of him.

_Arthur's here... I can rest now..._

* * *

A ghostly shriek rent the air as Livenn fell still, a cry that chilled the king to the bone.

_No... there can't be any of them left..._

Pale mist drifted up from where the dead man lay and the hideous visage of the dorocha began to form.  
Just as he was about to scramble for the candle the mist dissipated, leaving nothing but the echo of a death wail behind.

Setting that occurrence aside for the moment, Arthur dove forward, Merlin's abused form coming into focus as he got nearer.

"_Merlin_..." he choked out, devastated by the scene.

What he had assumed to be the red of the servant's shirt turned out to be an almost unbroken coating of blood, the substance still leaking from the cuts littering pale flesh.

Arthur stared. There was _so much_ _blood!_  
He felt his stomach rebel a bit and tore his gaze away, instead looking into his servant's face.

_No. Not again... not this..._

One of Merlin's eyes was open wide, radiating pain and fear, that half of his face coated with a thin layer of ice while frost had formed in his hair and made a trail down his slightly blue neck. Arthur saw the bruises forming there and restrained himself from kicking the corpse 'til it broke.  
There were more important things right now.

"Hold on, Merlin, you hear me?"  
He called, removing the younger man's bonds.

The other eye, barely open, drifted toward his face and Arthur was glad to see a spark of recognition there; but then the light in it seemed to fade.

"Merlin? Merlin!"

A sigh escaped blue lips as the eyelid slipped closed and Arthur could see no sign of breath being drawn in to replace the air lost.

"No, you can't do this to me- I forbid it!"  
The king reached out and grabbed his servant's shoulders, cursing at the cold he felt there.

He stripped the bed of its blankets and bundled Merlin as gently as he could; noting as he did so that Merlin's legs, and probably his torso beneath the blood, were also literally frozen rigid. It would be impossible to carry him alone like this.

"Guards!"

Four Camelot guards (two had passed by on their rounds and joined the original pair) entered the chambers as well as Livenn's, the latter looking contrite.

"You, run to Gaius and tell him to prepare for a patient. He'll need hot water, bandages, and _lots of blankets._"  
The designated guard raced off, not even pausing to bow.

"You two take Livenn's men to the dungeon for now. Then come back here and make sure this room remains undisturbed."  
The pair nodded, the lord's guards going along without struggle.

"You, help me carry him to Gaius." The last guard nodded, moving 'round the table to grasp under the servant's cocooned knees.

Arthur grabbed the blankets wrapped around Merlin's shoulders and began the desperate trek to the physician's quarters, mumbling under his breath:

"If you die, I swear I will personally call you back with that cursed horn and make you muck out my stables for all eternity."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So my goal was to finish this before Monday... yeah, probably not gonna happen.  
Ah well, here's another chapter- I'd intended it to be longer, but I'm just too sleepy (sorry).

* * *

The guard Arthur had sent ahead came out of the physician's quarters just as the king arrived, holding the door open so they could muscle through with the patient.

"Gaius!"

His voice _was not _desperate.  
Just a little strained, you know, from the exercise.

Either the messenger had warned Gaius of who the patient was, or he was simply that good at hiding his reaction- whichever the case Arthur was impressed by the man's control.

"Put him here in front of the fire and tell me what happened."  
The old man began unwrapping the bloodied covers, gasping at the extent of the wounds beneath before reaching forward to check his pulse and breathing.

"_Lord Livenn_ must have taken him this morning as he left. When I got there he was- well..."  
He paused to gather himself "there was a dorocha, Gaius."

The white head came up sharply.

"It's gone, and I don't know where it came from, it just appeared and then vanished."  
He concluded with frustration.

"I've had the room sealed off so we might learn more later, but for now... will he make it, Gaius?"  
Even _he_ would admit that sounded like a plea.

Weathered hands currently applying slightly warmed compresses to Merlin's forehead and armpits, the physician didn't look at his king as he answered.  
"I've hardly had a chance to examine him, Sire. We'll know more once I've gotten him cleaned and warmed up."

The tone was a bit too detached, increasing Arthur's internal panic.

"_Gaius._"

The elder sighed.  
"His breathing and heartbeat are perilously slow, but it is that same slow beating that has kept the blood-loss below life-threatening levels. It will become dangerous once more as he warms, but I will contain the damage as best I can."

His question remained unanswered, but perhaps it was better that way.  
"Is there anything I can do?"

Gaius flashed him an understanding look.  
"Once the bath is ready I'll need you to help get him in and keep his head above the water."

The king looked over at the large basin, seeing it was only half full.  
"Help fetch the water." He directed the guard who had come with him.

The man nodded, sketched a quick bow, and hurried out just as the messenger returned with his own buckets of water and emptied them into the tub.

"Doesn't it need to be heated first?"

The physician shook his head, pulling a blanket from beside the fire and settling it on his ward's legs as he began gently tending to the cuts.  
"That water may feel cool to you or I, but it will be quite warm for Merlin's body. We'll have to raise the temperature gradually to minimize the shock."

Arthur didn't understand, but acted as if he did.

"Sire, would you?"  
The physician held the bloodied cloth out and he took it without truly registering his action.

The old man stood and began rummaging in his cupboards, the sound of glass clinking the only thing filling the silence.

Arthur stared at the blood on the cloth, the blood on his hands, the blood on _Merlin_.

_This is my fault... I had my suspicions about Livenn, I should have done something... something more..._

He could almost hear the idiot's voice, calling him a dollop-head and saying it wasn't his fault.

_But it is Merlin, it is- I should have protected you._

Arthur shook himself and began dabbing at his servant's abused chest.

_You'll pull through this, Merlin, and I'll help you._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: It is inevitable that I will go back to updating less frequently than I am for this story, at which point I may die from review alert withdrawal- just so everyone knows what happened when I drop off the face of the earth.

* * *

Arthur finished tenderly cleansing Merlin's wounds and leaned back to survey them, pleased to see the majority of the cuts were now just barely weeping fluid- until he recognized a shape among the otherwise haphazard lines.

The king's jaw clenched painfully, hand fisting around the cloth and squeezing bloody water onto his trousers.  
If he hadn't been trembling with rage he might have begun kicking things.

Most of the gashes were minor, but deeply gouged below Merlin's left breast was the form of a snake half-raised to strike- Livenn's personal seal.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Arthur stood and punched the wall in frustration.

_He got off too easily! That- as if he were claiming him as property- I should have..._

His thoughts continued running their disjointed path until Gaius returned, face darkening at the revealed design.

"Is that _cur_ still alive?"

The old man's tone took Arthur aback, he had never heard Gaius sound _murderous_ before.  
Though he had been expecting rather more swearing.

"No." He was somewhat upset about that as his brain was now supplying him with a myriad of ways he _could_ have killed the beast.

The physician looked slightly disappointed, but nodded grimly.  
"Then let us see to undoing his work."

Wrinkled hands began slathering ointment all over the wounds.

"Yarrow will stop the bleeding and help raise his temperature. Hopefully the bandages will contain the salve well enough for it to do its work while he is submerged. Could you hold him up?"

The king obliged, levering the man up with difficulty due to his stiffness, as Gaius wrapped great swaths of linen around his ward's torso.

While Merlin was resettled his surrogate father replaced the warm compress before gently dislodging the icy half-mask on his face, dropping it to the floor as he closed the recently-freed eye.

His hand lingered there, cupping the mottled-blue cheek despite the cold.  
_Oh, my boy..._

The charged atmosphere was abruptly broken by the return of the guards with the last buckets of water- two fresh from the well and two hot from the kitchens.

The cool water went directly into the tub whilst the hot was set to the side, steam rising up in a manner that reminded Arthur uncomfortably of the dorocha.

"Let's get him in." Gaius rose to his feet, whisking off the blanket as one of the guards stepped forward to assist his king.

Luckily the warmed blanket had loosened Merlin's legs enough for them to wrestle him into the tub without incident and Arthur was currently engaged in holding his head above water, the pair of guards having been dismissed.

Pulling a bottle from his sleeve, Gaius lifted Merlin's tongue and carefully applied two drops of green liquid to the soft tissue there- which immediately absorbed them.

"A tincture of hawthorn to strengthen his heart and stimulate blood flow. It will probably take several doses."

Arthur was buried in his worried thoughts as the physician bustled about; checking Merlin for signs of improvement, monitoring the bandages, and gathering and administering various potions.

"Gaius." The king croaked, sounding like a lost child.

The elder sat down next to his monarch, placing a comforting hand on one shoulder.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault and I'm so sorry."

"No, Sire. Don't even _think_ that. This is no one's fault but Livenn's."

"You don't understand. I heard he- I _knew_, and still I didn't prevent this..."

"You did your best, you warned Merlin and told him to leave. What else could you have done?

"I should have kept him beside me, where he belongs."

Saying the words aloud, he felt them ring with a profound truth he hadn't been expecting.

"Arthur..."

The conversation continued, Arthur condemning himself and Gaius reassuring him until the king began to give in, emotions surging until he was sharing his overwhelming feelings with his second father. The old man's expression grew stony at the description of the scene the young man had interrupted, but he continued to console the other, tears pooling in his eyes. Eventually the words ground to a halt, leaving both men emotionally drained but somewhat better.

Once the servant's temperature reached that of the water, Gaius tipped in some of the hot and continued his frenzied activity; needing to keep himself busy.

The process repeated several times before Arthur started to notice Merlin's skin taking on a hue closer to his usual pallor, though it remained blue-grey in places.  
Still, he hadn't stirred.

"Shouldn't he be waking soon?"  
The royal asked, concerned.

The physician shook his head sadly.  
"He has suffered through great physical and psychological trauma, Sire. I cannot predict when he will awaken."

_Trauma..._

One word and Arthur was fearing the time when his friend regained consciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Oops. Seems my careless phrasing led to a misunderstanding. What I meant (in the previous author's note) was that although I'm updating _this_ story daily, don't expect it to happen ever again (with other stories). I fully intend to continue updating this at least once a day until it's done- hopefully I'll be well on the way to finishing it tomorrow, but we'll see. I really need to get this out so I can get back to my other fics. (I'm sorry for temporarily abandoning you, other readers who aren't here to see this!)

Ever make something and then just spend time staring at it in satisfaction?  
I redid the cover for this story and as I write the chapter I keep going back to look at it. Just makes me happy :)  
Tomorrow I'll probably think it's crap, but for now it's great ;)

And "Kettering" by The Antlers just started playing on Pandora- that song gets me every time.

* * *

More buckets of steaming water had been delivered and gradually replaced the tepid liquid in the tub until the bath itself was actively warm.

Gaius was tipping the bottle of hawthorn over Merlin's mouth once more when Arthur noticed the dark stain beginning to blossom on the bandages.

"Gaius-"

The physician looked down and, seeing the mark, immediately straightened.  
"Get him out!"

Arthur hauled the thin man up by the armpits, Gaius helping as best he could to get their patient over to the fire.  
Snatching up a towel, the physician gently dabbed the moisture away as quickly as he could before helping the king lie the now mostly-pliant body down on the cot.

Motioning for Arthur to pull the heated blanket up to the young man's waist, Gaius cut the bandages away rather than take the time to unwind them.  
The elder swore loudly at what was revealed.

The thick layer of bandages may have delayed the water in reaching the wounds, but it also lengthened the amount of time Merlin had bled before it became visible.

Red covered that pale chest again and Arthur had to look away, instead retrieving another cloth for Gaius to begin repeating his work in cleaning and treating the injuries.

Once he had done, the old man called the younger back to prop the servant up to be re-bandaged.

Turning back to the bed, Arthur stopped in his tracks.

There was a dark blotch the size of his palm directly over Merlin's heart, starting from a single black dot and gradually fading to a pale grey at the edges.

"Gaius, what-"

Rheumy eyes surveyed him sadly.  
"Frostbite. I'm afraid he has quite a bit of it, but this is by far the worst. I cannot fathom _how_ this was done, but I can only think the dorocha must somehow be involved."

Arthur bent to lift his servant, unable to tear his eyes away from the hideous spot- until he noticed the edges of what appeared to be a large and vicious burn peeking out from beneath the black.

_What?_

Trance now broken, the king's eyes roamed along his friend's chest as he noticed other imperfections in the pale skin beneath the recent horrors that had been visited upon it.

A puckered circle here- _puncture wound-_ a long slice there- _sword strike_...

Where had _Merlin_ gotten such scars?  
He recognized the slightly dented remains of the flail injury obtained in the Valley of the Fallen Kings along with the white line on his arm from their encounter with the Knights of Medhir- he had called that the man's first battle wound, but it looked as if he had been mistaken.  
The other scars, however, he couldn't even _begin_ to guess the origin of.  
In many cases he wasn't even able to discern the _cause._

He must have spent a goodly amount of time staring as Gaius was now gesturing for him to lie Merlin back down, which he did.

_Would Gaius know?_

Arthur shook himself. This was hardly the time to be asking about old scars.

_But don't think I'll just let this go, Merlin..._

Now that his ward was able to bend again, Gaius checked over his joints.  
"His shoulder is dislocated, be prepared to hold him if he stirs."

Normally the physician would have someone brace a person getting a joint re-located, but there wasn't an injury-free area appropriate to hold him by apart from his left arm.

Neither sound nor movement came from the invalid as the shoulder was put back in place.

"He'll need a sling once he's up, but for now try not to jostle it."  
The king nodded absently, knowing the physician had mostly spoken to fill the heavy silence.

Neither of them dared discuss the subject of Merlin's recovery, nor the things that would have to take place beforehand.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Nope, still like it :)  
In other news: there's a gas leak in my apartment. Excitement!

* * *

Gaius wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was worried.  
Merlin's breathing had returned to normal, but his heartbeat was still troubled.  
He feared the frostbite had indeed reached his heart and perhaps killed a part of it.

Normally this magnitude of damage occurred only on extremities and often necessitated amputation, but in this case the physician was at a loss.  
There really was only one thing he could do.

"Sire, I need to know more about whatever caused his condition in order to help him further. Could you perhaps go back and search the chambers for evidence of what did this?"

He felt a bit guilty, but he could think of nothing else to get the monarch out of the room- anything the man happened to find could also be of benefit.

Arthur was loath to leave Merlin, but also wanted to do whatever he could to help.  
"Alright, but you'll send for me immediately if there's any change?"

"Of course, Sire."

Resting his hand on the servant's uninjured shoulder for a moment, he nodded and left the sick-room.

Waiting until he could no longer hear the king's step, Gaius leaned over his ward and hovered a hand over the blackened skin.  
Focusing on the internal damage, the old sorcerer intoned **"****Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!****"**

Gingerly lying his ear against Merlin's chest, he listened to the still-stuttering beat beneath.

"**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!" **He chanted more forcefully.  
No change.

"Merlin..." he took a steadying breath, trying to calm his own racing heart.  
_I told you to never do this again..._

"**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!"**  
The old man nearly collapsed, his strength drained until he was limp on the edge of the bed.

He couldn't be certain, but the pulse seemed a bit stronger.

Gaius would have willingly continued until the life had fled his body, but not only would that have left Merlin without a caretaker, but he also didn't believe he had enough magic left to light a candle. He prayed his effort had been enough to enable the muscle to heal on its own.

_Please Merlin..._

* * *

Arthur paused outside the door to those cursed chambers, nodding to the guards and gathering himself before entering.

The candle was near to guttering out but he was quick to throw open the shutters, letting the afternoon sun in to brighten the stifling space.

Carefully avoiding the bloodied table and averting his eyes from Merlin's discarded clothing, the king made his way over to the remains of Lord Livenn.

Pulling out a handkerchief, Arthur wrapped up the knife and thrust it through his belt- in case it was something more than an ordinary blade- then moved to inspect the corpse. The unpleasant memory of the man's smirking face as he placed a palm on Merlin's chest prompted Arthur to check the right hand, a glint of reflected light catching his gaze.

The ring gave him a cold feeling and he found himself tearing some cloth from the former lord's tunic to insulate against the piece of jewelry before he picked it up.

It was fairly simple, silver with a round black stone- a stone with a crack on the top.  
Had it broken when the man fell?

Shrugging, he wrapped the ring as well and placed it in his belt pouch before continuing his search.

* * *

Some time later, Arthur was marching back to Gaius'- his face thunderous.  
He had found... _things_ that had only increased his dark thoughts toward the deceased.

A small casket of torture instruments and bindings seemed relatively insignificant when a use for the large but empty chest came to his mind.

He had wondered at the trunk's purpose before spotting the old blood stains on the bottom and noticing the scratch-marks inside the lid.

_He was going to take Merlin with him._

Not only that, but he had clearly prepared ahead of time just in case he found someone he liked.  
He wasn't sure which scenario was worse- if he had planned on using the chest to hide Merlin's dead body, or if he had wanted to be able to _keep_ him.  
It seemed likely it had been used both ways in the past.

And Arthur had provided him with the perfect cover.  
He and Gaius would have assumed the servant was safely off in the forest until the lord had gone.  
After a day or two they would have searched and likely concluded that bandits had gotten him.  
How long would he have continued looking in all the wrong places before giving up on his friend?

The royal clung to his rage, finding it preferable to the crushing guilt.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Update: The gas leak is fixed and I didn't even get to explode anything.  
I've got to stop packing extra things into my stories, things just get out of hand. As much as I like scar reveals, I hadn't planned on this being one- but then it really wouldn't have made sense for Arthur _not_ to notice. Of course, I could have simply gone the 'he doesn't actually have any' route and/or not say anything, but... yeah, this is how short stories become bloated.

I'd been thinking about going back to Errol, and then someone asked about him and sealed the deal ;)  
I was going to go back to the main action in this chapter after his bit, but the tone was too different so you get another mini-chapter (I say as if _all_ the chapters of this story aren't small...)

* * *

Errol sat on the bench in the king's antechamber, heels on the edge as he hugged his knees.

_Should I have followed?_

The king hadn't given him any indication as to what he should be doing now and, frankly, he had used up all of his courage just coming forward.

So here he remained.

Thoughts and memories flashed across his mind against his will and he found himself choking back sobs, rocking slightly on the bench.

"What's wrong?"  
A soft voice asked, a tentative hand touching his shoulder.

The scribe flinched back violently, nearly knocking his head against the wall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you..."

Just then Errol realized who was addressing him and scrambled to stand and bow.  
"Your majesty!"

"Nevermind that."  
The queen guided him back down onto the bench.  
"Tell me what's bothering you?"

"Oh, I couldn't- I mean, nothing m'lady."

A brown eye met his in an accusatory stare.  
"I can understand if you don't want to share, but do not try to deny that you are upset."

And really, he had had enough of doing so.  
All his resistance was washed away in a moment and he broke down in tears, a torrent of incomprehensible words falling from his lips as the queen murmured comfort and held him gently.

He had recoiled from the contact initially, but Livenn had never been gentle with him and Errol found himself relaxing in this warm and tender embrace.

For the first time in months he started to believe that things just might get better.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: aklsjdnfiuaefkjndfia. That is all.

* * *

Arthur stepped back into Gaius' chambers, spying the man hunched over the cot and looking shaky.  
His heart clenched.

_No... he didn't... he couldn't have..._

The king strode forward and lightly gripped the physician's shoulder.  
"Gaius?"

The old man jerked awake, seeming disoriented.  
"Sire? Oh, I must have... did you find anything?"

Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he saw Merlin's chest rising and falling in a regular rhythm, then took the items from his belt.

"Livenn's knife and a suspicious ring." He handed both over.

Gaius nodded and unwrapped the blade, only studying it a moment before setting it aside with distaste.  
The ring, however, seemed to have an effect on the man before he even removed the fabric, keeping a couple of cloth layers between himself and the metal.

Eyes narrowed and brow deeply creased, the former sorcerer frowned at the stone.

"This ring, was it on the hand he touched Merlin's chest with?"

"Yes."

"And when the dorocha appeared, did it seem to come from Livenn's corpse?"

Arthur started a bit, he saw where this was going and was a bit surprised it hadn't occurred to him before.

"Yes. Are you saying that _thing_ came from this stone? Was Livenn a sorcerer?"

"I can't be certain, of course, but this ring was designed to contain something not quite mortal. Circles are often used in magic related directly to life and death- they are a powerful symbol in the Old Religion that represents the cycle of life itself. These engravings here" he tilted the ring to reveal a pattern of interlocking circles and connecting lines chiseled on the underside of the setting "harness the wearer's will to control the dorocha."

He covered the piece of jewelry once more and set it beside the knife.

"I doubt Livenn himself was a sorcerer. Certainly if he had been the one to make this his magic would have continued to at least _contain_ the dorocha after his death- such skillful and powerful magic would not be so quick to fade. As it is we should be happy a powerless man held ownership of it, else we would have more to worry about."

"But isn't it free now? Will it be coming back tonight?"  
The king looked out the window at the sky, just beginning to darken.

The old man shook his head.  
"No. The veil is closed. It could not survive here without the influence of the realm of the dead spilling out into the land of the living. It has ceased to be."

Arthur let out another relieved sigh.  
"At least that's one less thing to worry about."

"Indeed."

Arthur sank into a stool at the head of the cot and the two sat in silence for some time, the king brushing the fringe back from Merlin's forehead.

"Has he developed a fever?" The pale man was sweating and a bit warm, though Arthur still found that far preferable to his previous ice-cold state.

"The yarrow is doing its work." Gaius bent to listen to his ward's chest once more.  
"His heart also seems to have improved a bit. He may be well enough to wake soon."

The royal's hope soared just as a new fear gripped his mind.

"What do I say to him, Gaius?"  
He sounded like a lost child, but it was hard to care since he also _felt_ like one.

"I suspect listening will be the better course, Sire."

Arthur was well aware that this was not his strong point, especially when Merlin was involved, but he vowed to put forth his best effort.

_I'm here for you, Merlin. Come back to me._


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: It's too dry, my nose is bleeding. Not happy :(

* * *

Gaius had spent some time sharing advice on how best to help Merlin once he awoke and Arthur was mulling it over, his dread only increasing with each passing moment, when a knock sounded on the door.

"Enter." The physician called softly, pulling the blanket up to cover his ward's chest.

Guinevere came through the door, lightly supporting a familiar youth with tear-stained cheeks.  
"Gaius, I- Merlin! What happened?"

It was Errol who answered, in a small, sympathetic voice.  
"Lord Livenn."

The queen gasped, hand flying to her mouth as she stared at her friend in horror.  
"No, not Merlin..."

The scribe was still talking, his gaze fixed on his fellow victim but his focus far away, his voice distant.  
"He must have resisted. Master isn't gentle, but he doesn't leave a mark on you unless you defy him- well, mostly."  
One of his hands raised unconsciously to rest over his ribs on the left side.

_He too..._

"Livenn isn't your master anymore."  
Arthur affirmed.

Errol looked at him, hope in his eyes.

The king nodded.  
"He's dead."

Conflicting emotions ran across the young man's face, but relief won out.  
Tears spilled from his eyes once more as he bobbed his head up and down, too choked up to speak.

"Come, let's have a talk."  
Gaius rose from his seat, picked up his kit and held out an arm, not touching but guiding the young man back to the relative privacy of Merlin's room.

Errol, after a reassuring glance from Gwen, followed the old man timidly.

The queen then sank onto the stool vacated by the physician, eyes watery as she gazed at her injured friend.

"Why Merlin?"

Arthur scooted around the bed so he could hold his wife.  
"I don't know, Guinevere, I don't know."

* * *

Gaius emerged from the adjoining room some time after night had fallen to find the king and queen holding vigil over his ward.  
A slight smile tugged at his lips as he pulled up a bench beside them.

"He's asleep now and I believe he is on the road to recovery. He doesn't have the physical damage that Merlin suffered, but he _was_ under Livenn's thumb for several months."

Gwen and Arthur looked at him with sad eyes.

"He is a druid- his whole tribe was killed back in your father's day, Arthur. He was the only one to escape. Young as he was, he found a family to take him in and spent a few years apprenticed to a scribe before finding a place in Livenn's household. It wasn't long before that _beast_ attacked him, saw his druid mark, and threatened to turn him in. The poor boy didn't even know that you had ended the persecution of druids. That filthy excuse for a noble blackmailed him into performing _favors_ ever since."

The queen shuddered and Arthur pulled her closer.

"Does he have anywhere to go? Anyone to look after him?"  
The king asked with unusual thoughtfulness.

"No, I'm afraid not. Even his surrogate family is now gone."

The royal nodded.  
"We'll need to find a place for him. He has shown great courage in coming forward, and done us a great service."

Gaius bowed his head slightly.  
"Indeed, I- Merlin!"

Two heads whipped around to see the cause of the physician's cry, finding two blue eyes gazing back at them.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: _**Killing Spree**_ Wait, no, that's not quite right... _**Writing Spree**_ That's better.  
Just imagine a video game narrator saying it dramatically. Now: More Drama!

* * *

A voice boomed out somewhere above him, muddled and incomprehensible as if it were coming from underwater.

_Did I pass out?_

His brain felt fuzzy, his body leaden.

_What happened?_

Memories rushed to the fore; a knife, a leer, fingers...

_What did he do to me?_

Mind beginning to clear slightly, he now had a better sense of himself.  
Everything seemed to be throbbing painfully, his chest felt tight, and his skin tingled unpleasantly.  
His shoulder, while better than it had been when first dislocated, was home to a deep ache and there was a sharp pain in his left ear.

_Wasn't I cold before?_

He wasn't now.  
In fact he felt rather uncomfortably warm for the most part, other than the glacial pit of nausea that seemed to have settled in his stomach.

Another voice joined the first, though he had no better luck understanding it.

Had Livenn brought someone else to help torment him?

Merlin shuddered at the thought, the movement causing the wounds on his torso to stretch and burn.

_Almost forgot about those..._

The voices were carrying on their conversation and nothing new was happening to him, so perhaps he was safe?

_As safe as I ever am..._

Well, he wasn't going to learn anything else without opening his eyes.  
With great force of will, he cracked open his lids- then immediately shut them against the blinding light.

_At least I don't have to worry about the dorocha now._

The thought made him probe at his magic which responded quickly- to his great relief.  
This way he wouldn't be defenseless, even if he _wasn't_ safe.

_Alright, let's give this another go._

He levered his eyes open more slowly, giving them time to adjust before lifting his lids all the way.

Colorful shapes resolved themselves into people and objects and the warlock identified Arthur, Guinevere, and Gaius; all huddled around him.  
He turned his head a little, making the room spin unpleasantly.

Gaius shouted something then, it might have been his name, and the royal couple turned to face him.  
Where was Livenn? Oh what did it matter, he was away from him now.

Three faces peered at him with concern, and he tried to sit up to reassure them- this turned out to be a rather bad move as vertigo overwhelmed him and he promptly fell over, vomiting over the edge of the cot (thankfully the side unoccupied by his friends).

A hand touched his bare back and he flinched away involuntarily, unable to hold in a cry of pain as he jostled his injuries.

Voices again, Arthur? Gwen?  
They were even less intelligible with his good ear smashed against the pillow.

Gaius' aged face appeared before him, speaking and seeming to offer him a steaming cup of something with a few sprigs of herbs in it.

He shook his head in refusal, causing more vomiting.  
Where was all of this even coming from?  
He was reasonably certain he hadn't eaten anything for at least a day by this point.

His surrogate father addressed him again, then slowly reached for his face.

Panic

Without conscious thought, Merlin found himself tumbling off the cot and pressing his body into the corner of the room; heedless of the pain as he tried to make himself as small as possible. He was all too aware of his vulnerable state, injured and naked aside from his slightly damp small-clothes and the bandages he had just noticed around his chest.

His brain knew that he was safe, that he was among friends now- people who wouldn't hurt him.  
Unfortunately his brain wasn't really in control right now and he began to hyperventilate when Guinevere took a step toward him.

The tightness in his chest flared into burning pain that radiated to his left arm and he clutched at it desperately, willing the pain to just _go away_.

His wish was granted, at least temporarily, when his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell to the floor unaware.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: *sings* And I am awe-some/Awe-some/I am the awesom-est!  
Yeah. Who wrote 15 chapters in 7 days? I did. *self-satisfied smile*  
Sure they're tiny, but there's a lot packed in there! I feel justified in my pride.  
*goes back to listening to "You Can't Handle This" by Five Iron Frenzy*

* * *

The trio looked at Merlin, pain in his eyes as he tried to sit up before they could stop him.  
They surged forward as one when he crashed over onto his side, throwing up over the side of the bed and nearly rolling off into the hearth.

Gwen got there first, intending to rub his back in comfort, but the servant jerked away with a whimper.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry!" The queen apologized, worried she had further hurt her friend.

Gaius fetched the pot of hot water from the hob and prepared a mug of herbal tea.  
"It's probably best to avoid touching him, especially when he can't see you, my lady."

Guinevere nodded tearfully, hands now clasped in her lap.

The physician knelt in front of his ward and offered him the decoction.  
"Here, Merlin, this will help with the pain and nausea."  
_And hopefully calm you down a bit..._

The young man shook his head, once again purging his stomach onto the floor.

Gaius frowned.  
"Merlin?"

Blue eyes looked at him, uncomprehending.  
Perhaps there was something more to the nausea than he had thought.  
_That ice..._

"Merlin, I need to check your ears, I think they may be damaged."  
He gazed intently at his ward, hoping his intentions had been successfully communicated before slowly reaching forward.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Eyes wide, Merlin flipped off the bed and scuttled into the corner, knees pulled up against his chin and arms pressed to his sides.

Guinevere took a hesitant step toward him, which seemed to raise his panic to a whole new level.  
His chest heaved as he took loud, quick breaths; eyes growing ever wider.

Arthur was about to ask Gaius what to do when Merlin's face scrunched in pain, grabbing his left arm as his eyes rolled and he tipped over onto the floor.

The physician sprang into action immediately.  
"Lay him flat! Make sure he's breathing!"

Now properly panicking himself, the king found himself shoved to the side as the queen did as instructed.

Gaius, meanwhile, snatched the covers from the cot and bunched them up.  
"Lift his legs, we need to get more blood to his heart."

Arthur complied, still in a horrified daze, and the old man shoved the linens under Merlin's legs.

"He's still breathing rather quickly, but it's slowing down." Guinevere reported, in much better control than her flustered husband.

"What's happening Gaius?" Said husband asked.

The old man had his ear pressed up against his ward's chest, brow furrowed.  
"He's having a heart attack, Sire."

"But you can fix it, right?"

"The normal treatment is bloodletting, but that would hardly be appropriate in this case. I'm afraid there isn't much I can do for him aside from what I've already been doing."

"What? But surely there's something-"

"Don't you think I would be doing it?" Gaius yelled.

Arthur instantly calmed in the face of the elder's unusual outburst, looking melancholic.  
"Of course, I know you would, I just- I can't lose him. I _can't_."

Gwen moved to Arthur's side, pulling him into her embrace and burying his head under her neck.

"I'm not saying you will. Merlin is strong and otherwise healthy- however, the frostbite has done serious damage to his heart and I'm uncertain as to when or even _if_ it will heal. His wounds will put him at high risk for some time now."

Leaning back from his wife's comforting arms, the king covered his face with both hands before raking them through his hair to rest on the back of his bowed neck.

"I don't know if I can do this, Gaius."

Before the physician could reply, Guinevere grabbed his chin and locked eyes with him.  
"You _can_ and you _will._ This is _Merlin_."

Arthur gave her a weak grin, his reply soft.  
"Help me?"

She responded with her own watery smile.  
"With all my heart."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: In a moment of supreme appropriateness, photo100 posts the hundredth review :)  
Many thanks to all of you!

* * *

Merlin had been moved back to the bed where his legs remained elevated and a fresh blanket was pulled up under his chin.  
Gaius had checked his ears and found a small amount of fluid in his left.

"I believe the ice has ruptured his ear drum- he seemed to be having difficulty hearing and the vomiting may have been caused by vertigo."

"Which means?" Once again anger was building in an attempt to relieve Arthur of his anxiety, manifesting itself as impatience.

"The ear drum should repair itself in about two months. Hopefully his hearing will also return during that time. The dizziness seems like it will be a big problem until it goes away- I will give him something for it, but I can't take it away entirely since his ear injury affects his sense of equilibrium."

"So you're telling me he'll be even more clumsy than usual?"  
The king tried to lighten the mood, the corner of his lips twitching a bit.  
Gwen slapped him lightly on the arm.

Gaius gave him a small smile of appreciation.  
"Yes, that's one way of putting it."

"Gaius?" The weak voice issuing from the cot had every face instantly somber once more.

"I'm here, Merlin." The physician moved so he was easily within view.

"What happened? Where's Arthur and Gwen?"

"They're right here- don't turn your head. Your ear drum has been punctured and you'll be quite dizzy because of it. How's your hearing?"

"Oh." Clearly tired, the servant allowed his eyes to drift shut as he sighed.  
"It's clearer than before, but still a bit muffled... what else?"

The physician hesitated a moment before his ward's blue eyes pinned him with a piercing gaze.

"The wounds on your chest should heal well and quickly provided you take it easy. I relocated your shoulder so that should be fine soon- though it'll be susceptible to injury in the future. You have frostbite in a few places, including..."

"Gaius?"

"Try to stay calm."

"Gaius..." It was rather clear to Merlin that Gaius was the one in need of calming.

"Merlin, part of your chest was deeply frozen and- your heart seems to have been damaged. I don't know the extent of the hurt or how permanent it is, but-"  
He had to stop for a moment to compose himself.

"You just had a heart attack Merlin, and it could happen again at the slightest provocation."

"Ah." Merlin blinked, seeming to take the news rather matter-of-factly.  
"Well, at least these wounds mean I won't be subjected to the leeches- cleaning the tank is bad enough."  
He smiled and gave a weak chuckle.

"_Wouldn't want to stop your heart."_

Livenn's voice came, unbidden, to his mind and he shuddered.

"Are you cold? I could get you another blanket."  
Arthur's voice came from somewhere beyond the head of the cot.

"_Finally awake?"_

His eyes slammed shut, hands gripping the edge of the cot.  
"C-could you go around to the other end of the bed- please?"  
His voice squeaked a little on the last word.

The king was taken somewhat aback, but hurried to comply.  
"Of course, anything you need."

His tone was so sincere.  
Merlin found it unsettling.

Still not looking, the servant let out a huff of a laugh, trying desperately to reestablish their usual dynamic.  
"How about a day off?"

Arthur allowed his hope to grow a bit with the attempt at banter.  
"Why not ask for two? You'll probably take more no matter what I say."  
He flinched- not exactly the way he wanted that to go...

Merlin, however, soldiered on.  
"Of course. My master's too much of a prat to know how much time off is enough- must come of being pampered every day."

It wasn't quite up to his usual standards, but at least his eyes were no longer screwed shut.

Then he yawned, the wince he couldn't hold back at the pain in his throat breaking the moment.

"You take as long as you need, Merlin. We'll all be here for you. Anything, and I mean _anything_ we can do- you just let us know."  
Arthur quickly restrained the urge to touch his servant in reassurance.

"Now who's being a girl?"

"Merlin..."

He gave up on trying to recapture the relatively lighthearted atmosphere.  
"I understand. Thank you Arthur."

Another yawn and his eyes were drooping.

"Alright, it's time for everyone to get some rest. That means you as well, Your Majesties."  
Gaius began ushering them away from the bed.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Guinevere took him in hand and Gaius gave him a raised eyebrow; effectively silencing him.

"I'll be back tomorrow." He said instead as he was pulled out the door.

"I wouldn't expect any different, Sire."  
The physician replied, his ward already asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I feel like there should be bingo cards for Merlin whump. Instead of a 'free space' it would have 'time off'. Just fill them in as you read.

* Now calling PTSD, anyone with PTSD on their cards, mark it now!  
+ Bingo!  
* Looks like someone's got a bingo with PTSD, extreme cold, magic suppression, vomiting, and sensory impairment. Congratulations, you've won this commemorative neckerchief!  
- Man, I was one away! I only needed 'dislocated limb'!

Yeah, those would be some fun times. Or maybe a drinking game would be more appropriate?  
Every time Merlin passes out, take a drink; Merlin dies? Take three shots (etc.)

* * *

Gaius had slept lightly, making regular trips to Merlin's side to check his boy's health or to simply stare at him in loving concern.  
Merlin himself put a stop to it by casting a sleep spell once the old man had returned to his own bed.

Now effectively alone in the room, the warlock threw out a hand and summoned the anti-nausea potion that had been waiting for him on the worktable.  
He swallowed it in one go to minimize the taste lingering in his mouth, then tentatively sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor.  
His chest stung, but salves and potions had made the sensation bearable and Merlin resolutely ignored what pain remained.

He groaned slightly when his legs came into proper view- everywhere the ring had touched was marked by a trail of greyed skin with blisters beginning to form.  
He reached a hesitant hand up to his chest, feeling them forming underneath the bandages as well.  
The slightly painful tight feeling in the skin of his face and neck made checking them unnecessary.

_Perfect._

His main purpose in getting up was to get dressed and hopefully lessen his feeling of vulnerability.  
He had known a tunic would be a bit unreasonable since Gaius would simply have to take it off to treat his wounds, but the trousers were something he had longed for.

Deciding he _needed_ what small protection clothing could offer, he once again extended a hand and summoned something from Gaius' cupboard.

It was an old over-robe, completely open in the front but large enough for the thin man to wrap around his body.  
The physician had, at one time, used this garment to protect his regular clothing when performing particularly messy tasks- now that he had Merlin to do such jobs for him it rarely saw the light of day.

Settling the soft fabric about himself, the servant sat back down and stared into the fire.

This new... _skittishness_ he'd developed was deeply disturbing and he found himself dwelling on it.  
Why couldn't he just be normal? Nothing had really happened, after all, just some physical damage and _that_ was certainly nothing new.

_It'll be okay. You've been through worse, right?_  
He couldn't think of an example just now, but surely there was something... Morgana's poison, perhaps?  
_You just need to act like everything's normal and it will be, just like it always is. Simple._

In this state of intense self-reflection a startling thought occurred to him.  
Was it just because other people knew about it this time?  
Maybe hiding his pain from others had allowed him to hide from himself as well...

He stayed there for the remainder of the night, unable to look away from the fire that was his only comfort against the darkness at his back.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I must admit, compliments on my last lines always make me extra happy since I tend to pay special attention to them.  
My wonderful reviewers put a great big goofy smile on my face :D  
(Hope I didn't just jinx it... I think I may have)

* * *

The old physician woke to the sound of birdsong and sat up to find his ward staring into the unnaturally healthy fire as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

"Merlin?"

There was no reply and for a moment he thought perhaps the boy had fallen asleep with his eyes open- until those eyes flashed gold and a pot floated from the hearth to the table where two bowls and spoons waited.

"Good morning, Gaius. I hope you don't mind a nice thin soup for breakfast- there wasn't much in the pantry." Merlin gave him a weak grin and stood carefully, wobbling his way over to the workbench.

He winced at the sight of the blisters on that pale face.  
"Merlin, you shouldn't be-"

Blue eyes flashed almost angrily.  
"Don't treat me like an invalid, Gaius. I'm only a little anemic from the blood loss. Nothing that rest and nourishment won't fix."

"Merlin..."

"Are you going to eat or not?" He turned away and began working on his own breakfast.

The elder sighed and came to the table, sitting across from his surrogate son.  
After a few moments of eating in silence, he tried again.

"You don't have to act as if everything is normal."

"Yes, I do." The warlock said it firmly, though he avoided making eye contact.

"You'll only harm yourself by keeping things in, Merlin. It will all have to come out sooner or later."

The servant huffed at the advice, the opposite of what his mentor usually said to him.  
"Then it will be later."

He stood and returned to his place by the fire, collapsing into a heap on top of the blankets.  
"I suppose you'll want to be examining me, then?"  
He was proud of the way he kept the dread out of his voice.

Gaius also rose and moved to the side of the cot, noting Merlin's tense muscles and clenched jaw.  
"I can put you to sleep- to make it easier."

The warlock shook his head, then grimaced- the nausea medicine was wearing off.  
"No. I'm not weak, Gaius. I can handle this."

"It's not weakness to-"

"Just get it over with, please."  
The anticipation was making him even more on edge.

The old man gave in, waiting for Merlin to open the robe on his own before giving him a visual inspection.  
He wisely ignored the way his ward kept his eyes tightly shut and his hands fisted in the blankets the entire time.

He moved slowly and deliberately, announcing his actions before performing them.

"I'm going to put some ointment on your legs and a dressing. Are you ready?"

Almost rigid now, Merlin nodded.

From the first touch the servant was in a constant battle with his panic.  
Nostrils flared as he drew in deep breaths and his teeth were in danger of cracking from the pressure being applied to them.

When Gaius had finished with the right leg he tentatively began on the inside left, knowing the likely reaction that would cause in his patient.

Merlin found he could either control his body, his magic, or neither.  
That being the case, he let one go.

The fire roared even higher in the hearth, vials exploded in their racks, and parchments took to the air seemingly of their own accord.  
A whirlwind formed around the pair of men, and the dried herbs hanging on the walls began to grow and blossom.

_Just bear with it- you need to be treated. It will all be over soon._

He repeated soothing words to himself over and over, completely unaware of Gaius doing the same thing beside him.

Legs finished, Merlin managed to regain some measure of control and set the chambers to rights, panting at the effort of containing his alarm.

"I'll give you a moment to recover."

"_It's good to have a _little_ sport, after all." _

"Would you rather I take care of your face or chest next?"

"Face." He ground out, trying to blot out the flashback.  
The robes were now covering his legs once more, but he wasn't ready for the exposure of having his bandages removed.

While Gaius cleaned up the residual signs of Merlin's outburst, the young man got his breathing under control and pried his hands from the blankets.

Getting his face treated actually wasn't bad.  
With his eyes closed all he could feel was a slight pressure on the damaged flesh, the ointment and frostbite numbing any other sensation.

His neck, however, was another matter entirely.

Even before Gaius' fingers reached his flesh, the feeling of their presence sent Merlin's eyes flying open and Gaius soaring back to crash into his dressing screen.

"Gaius!" He started to get up, but had to stop when his head swam dangerously.

The old man scrambled to his feet, quick to reassure his ward.  
"It's alright, Merlin. I'm fine- it wasn't your fault."

"How can you say that? Of course it was my fault! Gaius, what if I had-"

"Shhh. You didn't. You wouldn't- you won't. Now just breathe, that's it."

Watching his boy struggle to pull himself together, Gaius' heart clenched.  
"Perhaps we should do this later."

"No. Arthur will be here later. I can handle this."  
That phrase seemed to have become his motto.

"Alright, but you can tell me to stop at any time."

Merlin nodded, back to gritting his teeth and trying to use the lids to press his eyeballs out the back of his head.

Deciding to leave the neck as is for the time being, he focused on the torso.  
"I'll start cutting the bandages now."

The dressings were removed without incident and the physician was pleased to see the cuts were healing well- though most would scar.

"Your knife wounds are coming along nicely."

His ward grunted in a noncommittal way.  
"And the frostbite?"

That was rather less pleasant.

"Blood blisters have begun to form on it, I'm afraid."

"Right. Well, better get on with it, then."  
His voice was strained, but the physician nearly burst with pride and sadness for the boy's courage.

The flesh beneath his hands twitched and quivered as he cleaned it and reapplied salve and bandages, but Merlin was otherwise still- his observable responses limited to a few soft whimpers.

The old man wanted nothing more than to take his boy in his arms and protect him from everything, and his heart broke that the very action itself might undo the man.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Snow :)  
Real, proper snow. Finally.

Man, never thought this would be 20 chapters, even if it _is _only just over 15,000 words.  
Truly I am incapable of estimating the length of my writings.

* * *

Errol woke to a veritable cacophony coming from the adjoining room.  
_Are we under attack?_

His next thought sent him scurrying under the bed.

Did the old man lie? Were the guards coming to arrest him for being a druid?  
This seemed like rather a lot of to-do for a simple arrest.

Curiosity winning out, the scribe crept from beneath the furniture and peeped through a gap in the door.

What he saw sent him scrambling back under cover.

_That servant has magic!_

Well, it wasn't the fact that he had magic that was so surprising.  
He himself had, after all, heard him calling for help from half a castle away.  
It was the sheer _amount_ of magic that shocked him.

His brow wrinkled.  
Something about this, an absurdly powerful sorcerer in Camelot, tickled his memory; reminded him of stories told around a fire back in the time spent among his own people.

Dismissing that for the moment, he moved back to the door now that the activity seemed to have ceased.

Everything was neatly in place and, if it hadn't been for a few sprigs of yarrow still putting off fresh blooms (hastily snatched from the wall by the eagle-eyed physician), he'd have thought the whole thing to be a figment of his imagination.

_Should I come out now?_

He debated just long enough for another burst of power to send the old man crashing into something just out of Errol's sight.

_Did he just attack him? Should I help?_

The following exclamations made it clear the occurrence had been an accident and, feeling like an eavesdropper (which he was, really), Errol retreated back to the bed.

_I'll just wait until they're done._

* * *

Merlin was safely wrapped up in the robe and huddled on the bed when a timid call of 'good morning' came from the direction of his room.

Turning carefully, the warlock fixed the scribe with an unblinking gaze.  
"Gaius?"

"Ah, young Errol. I trust you slept well."

The young man ducked his head.  
"Yes, sir. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Think nothing of it. The king himself wants to reward you for your service by helping you find a place. You are more than welcome to remain here until that happens- though Merlin may want his room back before that time comes."

"'Service'? What's going on, Gaius?"  
Not knowing what was happening did not sit well with Merlin, especially since a man he barely knew had been sleeping in his room and had quite possibly witnessed him using magic.

"He's the one who told Arthur you were in trouble- he saved you, Merlin."

Still wary, the servant raised his chin and narrowed his eyes slightly.  
"And how did you know I needed help?"

The scribe was clearly nervous if not downright intimidated.  
"I- I heard you."

"There is no possible way any sound I made could be heard outside of that room."

"_So much more reliable than a gag..."_

The response was mumbled.

"What was that?"

"In my head! I heard you call for help in my head."

The relief was clear as Merlin allowed himself to sink back onto the cot.  
"You have magic" he said softly, a slight smile on his face.

The erstwhile druid froze in place.  
_I have magic?_

Not noticing this reaction from his new reclining position, Merlin's mind jumped from worry over his secret being exposed to the other fear that constantly plagued him.

"You're not here to kill Arthur, are you?"

_Real subtle, Merlin. I can see you're at the top of your game._

Startled from his short-lived reverie, the younger man spluttered his response.  
"What? The king? Why would I do that?"

Staring at Errol's flustered countenance for a few moments, Merlin once again forced the tension from his limbs.

"Thank you."

"What?"

Gaius was sitting at his bench, watching the little melodrama play out with an eyebrow raised in amusement.  
The physician hadn't thought it possible, but the druid boy's expressions were even more entertaining than Merlin's.

"Thank you- for saving me. I owe you my life and more."

Suddenly embarrassed, the scribe dropped his gaze to the floor to watch his shuffling feet.  
"It was nothing."

"No." The warmth and sincerity in the voice drew Errol's eyes back up to meet those of the servant.  
"You were very brave, and I shall never be able to repay you. Though I think I may be able to offer a little something in return."

His gaze flicked to Gaius and the old man stood, saying he needed to make his rounds.

Errol looked ready to protest Merlin's statement but was cut off when the servant gestured at the remaining soup in the pot.

"But first, how about some breakfast?"


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Had trouble deciding whether to skip forward and hit the salient points as flashbacks or to flesh it out a bit- ultimately chose the latter.  
Probably another slow chapter after this one, then some good ol' action in 23.

* * *

Errol fidgeted with the spoon and now-empty bowl, awkwardly avoiding Merlin's soft gaze.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

The scribe's eyes snapped up, looking vaguely alarmed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." The servant quietly contradicted.

"Fine. But you know nothing about it." The younger man replied, words clipped and tone short.

Both winced internally, aware he _did_ know rather more about it than he would wish.

"So tell me."

He wanted to refuse, but the look in those eyes... and he of all people would understand, surely?  
So Errol opened his mouth and talked.

Telling his tale seemed to become easier each time.  
Maybe it was because of that fact, his audience, or something else entirely; but the druid found himself sharing more with the servant than he had even consciously admitted to himself.

His secret fear that, in some way, he had _deserved_ the treatment he had gotten; his lingering discomfort in his own skin; the anxiety when other men got too close- all these things and more poured out and Merlin listened to it all, waiting until he was finished to say the simple things Errol hadn't known he needed to hear.

"You didn't ask for this, you didn't deserve it, you didn't _want_ it. You are not at fault."

Tears streamed down the scribe's face as he drank in the other man's assurances, willing them to be true.

"You _are_ _not_ worth any less because of what happened. You _are not_ weak."

The intensity in the words compelled him to believe.

"It will take time, but things will be better. _You_ will be better. You are already stronger for this."

Errol's head bobbed as he wiped his face on his sleeve.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, Merlin seeming to radiate calm strength as the younger man got his emotions under control.

"I- is it true?"

Sensing a change in topic, the warlock cocked his head.  
"Is what true?"

"Do I have magic?" He whispered the words.

"You didn't know?"

"I was quite young when my foster family took me in- I remember very little of my time among the druids. The memories are just brief flashes, more feelings and impressions than actual recollection."

Merlin nodded.  
"I see. Yes, you do have magic- at least enough for telepathic communication. I-"  
The servant shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable but also excited.  
"I could teach you a bit, if you want?"

He felt foolish for framing it as a question rather than a statement.  
_Nice confidence. "All-powerful Emrys" indeed..._

Errol seemed to have caught a bit of his nervous energy, also readjusting his position.  
"I... I don't know. It would be an honor, to be taught by one with such power..."

The would-be teacher groaned.  
"So you _did_ see that?"

"Heard it, more like." The scribe had a faint smile on his face.

Merlin shook his head.  
"_That_ was nothing to be proud of."

It was a loaded statement and Errol sensed a change in his companion's mood.

Hesitantly, he turned compassionate eyes on his fellow victim.  
"Would you like to-"

"Well, better drink this anti-nausea potion and my sleeping draught. Lots of blood to replace, you know..." Merlin trailed off anxiously, clearly trying to avoid any focus on himself.

He tipped his head back and drained the vials, shuffling over to the cot.

"It was nice meeting you, Errol. I truly cannot thank you enough. Please come to me any time you need to talk- or want to learn a few spells."  
He favored his new student with a grin before turning toward the fire and hiding under the blankets, pretending to fall asleep on-the-spot.

At least, Errol was pretty sure he was pretending.  
Either way it was clear he had been dismissed.

Rising from the bench, the scribe went in search of something useful to occupy his hands and mind.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Sorry guys, too tired to write yesterday. Now I'm sad I broke my streak...  
A micro-chapter for now, though I hope to have the next exciting chapter up later (and I do mean exciting *evil chuckling*).  
Still really tired, though, so it may be tomorrow.

* * *

Arthur skipped training to visit Merlin and the two spent the time in awkward conversation as the king tried to get his servant to talk without getting impatient and the servant managed to dodge his clumsy inquisitions until the monarch was called away to settle a dispute between a pair of nobles.

Guinevere appeared shortly thereafter, following Gaius as he returned from his rounds, and remained at her friend's bedside until it was time for dinner. Merlin's evening check-up and bandage-change to come after. The two had spoken little during the time, especially since Merlin had been falling in and out of slumber throughout the afternoon, but he appreciated her silently supportive presence.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Merlin." She assured, giving him a loving smile as she slipped out the door.

Swatting away Gaius' helping hands, the younger man hauled himself out of bed to sit at the table and pick at his dinner.  
The stew tasted rather worse than usual, but he held back on mentioning it.

He was attempting to get rid of the taste with some bread when a sudden wave of weariness crashed over him- along with one of suspicion.

"Gaius, didju-?"

He hadn't even finished his slightly-slurred sentence before slumping forward into his (thankfully) empty bowl.

"I'm sorry, Merlin, but I can't..."

The rest of the physician's apology was lost on his patient who was firmly wrapped in the arms of sleep.

* * *

"Come help me with him." Gaius motioned to the boy who had been waiting outside the door and Errol obliged, helping the elder carry Merlin to the bed.

The physician set to work, removing bandages to find that the blisters had turned hard and black in places- not unexpectedly. Fresh salve and bandages applied, he moved on to the neck he hadn't been able to tend to that morning; bruise balm being applied there as well as the frostbite ointment and loose dressing.

Merlin's chest was healing well, most of the cuts had closed completely, the only exception being the mark carved on his ribs.  
Errol saw it and quickly averted his eyes, unpleasantly reminded of the same mark branded on his own chest.

Once everything was back in place, Gaius thanked his helper and sent him off to bed, the old man remaining to stand sentinel over his precious ward.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Ah, what a lovely nap- once people stopped interrupting it. Honestly, on a normal weekend I can go an entire day without hearing from another person, but any time I'm sick and/or tired and decide to sleep the day away I wind up being constantly roused by people at the door, calling me on the phone, or otherwise demanding my attention. It's ridiculous.

Anyways, here's what you're really here for:

* * *

Merlin was trapped between slumber and wakefulness, only barely able to sense what was going on around him- and what he sensed made his mind cower in recognition.

He was lying on his back, someone seated on the cot next to him.  
Cot? Wasn't he on a table?

Well, that wasn't important right now.  
What _was _important was the feeling of something around his neck.

His eyes flew open, blurry vision revealing the presence of a brown-haired blob leaning over him.  
He tried desperately to get away, but his body wasn't listening to him right now, fuzzy brain apparently incapable of working his limbs.

"Hey, there's our sleeping beauty- good to see your eyes again!"

"_Beautiful... I want to see those pretty blue orbs of yours."_

"No! No, I don't want..." He forced the words past reluctant lips, producing sounds that were completely unrecognizable.

The figure loomed over the servant, bracing an arm on the opposite side of the cot/table so his body was suspended above, effectively trapping Merlin beneath.  
"What's wrong?"

"_Relax..."_

"Merlin, what's happening?"

"_Let me help you."_

"Are you choking? Should I take these off?" Fingers at his neck again.

"_We better get rid of these clothes before the drugs wear off enough for you to fight back."_

Someone else was there then, tearing the other person away, but it was much too late.  
Merlin was already lost in panic; he couldn't get enough air and his heart was racing, getting faster and faster until it ceased beating altogether.

* * *

Arthur once again left training in Leon's capable hands and made his way to the physician's chambers.  
Halfway there he was joined by Gwaine.

"You're supposed to be on the training grounds, Sir Gwaine."

"So are _you_. You're going to visit Merlin, right? I want to see him."

"That might not be the best idea..."  
Arthur had only told his inner circle that Merlin had been attacked by Livenn, leaving out the details of his motivations and the servant's current condition.

"Why? Surely he's bored sitting in bed all day. I'm sure he'd appreciate the company."

The king sighed.  
"We'll ask Gaius- and if he says 'no' I expect you to let it drop at that."

Gwaine nodded cheerfully.  
"Of course, princess."

Arthur couldn't tell if he was being sincere or simply trying to end the discussion.  
Either way Gaius was absent when they arrived, the guards posted on the steps informing the pair he had been called away for an emergency.  
"Stay out here, I'll ask Merlin if he's up for company."

The knight grunted, leaning against the wall to wait.

The royal slipped quietly into the cluttered room and made his way over to the hearth where Merlin was sleeping peacefully.

Looking at him like this it was easy to forget what had happened- until you see the bandages on his neck and the blisters on his face, currently covered in a pungent ointment.

It was probably better to let him sleep.  
Arthur went back out into the corridor and was telling Gwaine as much when a guard pulled him aside to deliver a message.

Seeing the royal's back was turned, the rogue knight snuck into the sickroom and took a seat on Merlin's bed.  
He eyed his friend sadly, knowing there must be more injuries he couldn't see.

Thinking of another time when the younger man lay injured and unconscious, he was moved to apologize.  
"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. It seems I'm never there when you need me."

He felt guilty when the servant stirred, but was nevertheless glad to see him awake, eyes looking slightly unfocused.

"Hey, there's our sleeping beauty- good to see your eyes again!"

Merlin started, his face scrunching up, and began mumbling in response.  
Something along the lines of 'no nye on'.  
His breathing was heavy.

Gwaine propped his arm against the other side of the bed, leaning forward to hear his friend better.  
"What's wrong?"

The servant began gasping for air, eyes widening in fright.

"Merlin, what's happening?"

The lack of response was really starting to worry the knight and, for want of other explanation for Merlin's distress, he reached toward the bandages on his neck.  
"Are you choking? Should I take these off?"

Arthur chose that moment to charge into the room, all-but tackling Gwaine to get him away.  
Unfortunately the damage had already been done and they both watched in horror as Merlin's exaggerated breathing peaked before stopping completely, his muscles relaxing and eyes dilating in his now-slack face.

Gaius, timing as impeccable as ever, had entered the room behind the king and began issuing orders.

"Get him on the floor! Gently!"

The physician dropped to his knees and listened to his ward's too-still chest.  
"His heart stopped. Arthur, I need your help."

The blond was there before the old man could even finish his sentence.

"Place your hands like this-" he positioned the king's palms together with fingers interlaced and guided them so the heel was placed against the bandages on Merlin's sternum "and press. Hard."

Confused and afraid, the king pushed weakly against his friend's chest.

"Arthur, I could do that much myself, you need to push harder- in time with your heartbeat."

He pressed more strongly, flinching as he felt a couple of blisters pop under the linen.

"Harder!"

Trying to shove aside his worry of hurting Merlin further, the warrior put all of his strength into the chest compressions; one after the other until Gaius bid him pause.

Tilting the servant's head back and pinching his nose, the physician blew two breaths into his mouth, inflating his chest before checking once more for a pulse.  
"Keep pushing."

Arthur obliged, continuing to pump until Merlin began making choking noises and Gaius had to turn his head aside and clean the vomit out of his mouth.  
"Don't stop!"

Well out of his mind with panic of his own, the royal put even more force into his thrusts until a great 'crack' rent the air and Merlin drew in a deep breath to be let out as coughing.

Gwaine, having been forgotten in the action, was still standing off to the side sending up prayers and apologies; eyes wide in fear that he had somehow killed his friend.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"  
Gaius looked into his ward's face, eyes tearing from pain as he nodded faintly.

"Get him back on the bed- carefully! I think one of his ribs might be broken."

Weak and shaky with reaction, Arthur motioned Gwaine forward to help him get Merlin on the cot.  
The servant put up a feeble resistance to their aid before passing out; Arthur only managing to keep himself together by watching the continued rise and fall of his companion's chest.

"Gwaine, out!"  
Gaius didn't know exactly what had happened, but he did know who had caused his ward's latest brush with death and he had no patience to deal with the man at present.

Casting one last agonized look at the man on the bed, Gwaine left.

Turning back to his patient, the elder removed the dressing and began probing gently.

"Did I hurt him, Gaius?" The king asked, sounding small.

"You saved his life, Arthur. You've no reason to feel guilty."

"Gaius..."

"One of his ribs is broken, yes. Help me clean him up?"

The king was quick to comply, wiping away the fresh smear of red from the broken blood blisters along with the old layer of salve.  
Gaius slathered on a new ointment to help numb the pain in his ward's chest before asking Arthur to prop him up and applying tight bandages.

Hands now idle, Arthur clutched at the bed frame.

The physician, also feeling a bit unsteady, pulled his sovereign into aged arms and rubbed him soothingly on the back.

"Gaius..." His voice broke and trailed off into sobs.

"I know, I know..."

The two stayed like that for a long time, holding each other as if by doing so they could hold together their frayed emotions.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: I feel kind of guilty, especially since I've used the CPR/rib-breaking thing before, but I always remember my instructor telling me that _his_ instructor's motto was "If you don't break a rib or two you're not doing it right." I'm sorry Merlin, you know I love you, right?

* * *

The next couple of days were tense.  
Merlin was in and out of consciousness and needed constant observation as his heart continued to falter on occasion and his breathing was strained by the broken rib.

Gwaine stood vigil in the corridor the entire time, refusing to sleep or eat until Gaius forced some broth on him.

Gaius was always at the fireside, the royal couple often joining him.

Sufficiently recovered from his first attempts, the physician had cast more healing spells over his ward during a council session the king and queen had been obliged to attend. This time he was sure he saw improvement, and Merlin was able to sit up and eat a little shortly afterward- though he had yet to speak.

Arthur had carefully explained to Gwaine and Merlin's other friends among the knights that the servant was suffering from 'soldier's heart' and no one was to visit for the foreseeable future.

The news was met with grim acceptance.  
They had all seen fellow fighters succumb to the ailment, unable to tell friend from foe, finding danger everywhere.  
It hurt to think of Merlin in that condition, something that should have _never_ happened to a servant.  
They sent their well-wishes, hoping the cheerful man they all knew and loved would be returned to them soon.

On the third day Gaius began dosing his patient with an oily, clear liquid; handling it with great care as he explained that it would help ease the burden on the young man's heart.

"Why did you not give this to him earlier?" Arthur asked, curious rather than accusatory.

"It is a highly volatile substance, and the dosage can be tricky, but I'm afraid I have no other options as his body is having difficulty healing itself."

"Volatile? It won't hurt him, will it?"

"Not as long as it is treated with the utmost care. Any shock or heat applied to it can cause _unwanted_ effects."

The king nodded, eyes fixed on Merlin's pallid features.

The blisters were mostly gone, Gaius having lanced the larger ones while allowing the smaller to be reabsorbed, and the blue-grey tinge of frostbitten skin had begun to fade. Much to the royal's distaste, the blisters that had turned black and hardened mostly came off while he and Gaius were treating his wounds.  
The cuts on his chest were beginning to disappear, the bandages now only necessary to brace his rib and prevent the servant from scratching at the scabs.  
Arthur tried not to think of the snake-shaped mark that was going to leave a clearly recognizable scar.

The physician sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, forehead wrinkled.

"Are you alright, Gaius?"

"Just a headache. It's a common side-effect of creating the potion."

Arthur looked at the elder with concern.  
"You should rest. I can watch Merlin for a while."

Gaius looked like he was going to protest, but instead nodded in agreement.  
"Perhaps you are right- but do not hesitate to wake me should anything change."

"Of course, Gaius."

The old man tottered over to his bed and sank down onto it gratefully, asleep within moments.

"Guess it's just you and me, then, old friend."  
He whispered gently, brushing Merlin's fringe off his forehead.

"Heard that..." came the mumbled response.

"Merlin?"

"Mmmm?"

"Merlin, thank God, you scared... Gaius half to death. How are you feeling?"

"Tired." A shaky hand reached up to rest on his chest.  
"Who kicked me?" He gave a tremulous smile.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

"Was joking, clotpole." The servant sighed, eyes barely cracked open.  
"Where's Gaius?"

"He's sleeping, but I'll have him over here in a moment."

"No- let him sleep. I'm sure he's been running himself into the ground."

"He'd want to know you're awake..."

"I'll be awake again later, just... sit with me?"

Even without the slight pleading tone in the weak voice Arthur wouldn't have been able to deny him.  
"Whatever you need Merlin- I told you that. I'm here for you."

Eyes closed once more, the servant gave a wide grin that was much closer to his usual bright smile.  
"Thank you, _old friend_."


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: I have nothing to say so here is chapter 25:

* * *

Merlin got steadily stronger thanks to the various potions and salves forced upon him by a doting Gaius. He had been moved back into his own room for additional peace and privacy and each day saw him awake for longer periods of time; eventually sitting up and making the occasional trip to the table or chamber pot.

It had also become a regular occurrence for the warlock to ask everyone else to leave him and Errol alone for a few hours every afternoon.  
Hours spent talking and practicing spells.

Little over a week after Merlin's collapse, Gaius proclaimed him fit enough to take short journeys around the castle- so long as someone was with him at all times, of course.

Merlin was pleased with the news and hurried to dress himself, striding to the door with Errol at his side.  
Pulling the handle he stepped out into the corridor.

_A foul-smelling cloth was shoved over his mouth and nose from behind and he found himself floating into unawareness as he breathed in the noxious fumes..._

Taking a loud gulp of air, he braced himself against the door frame.

"Merlin? Are you okay?"  
The scribe asked, concerned at his companion's sudden paleness.

The servant gave him a wan smile.  
"I think I may have rushed things a bit. Perhaps we could do this later?"

Forehead still wrinkled, Errol held the door open for him as he stumbled back to his bed and buried his face in his hands.

_What now? Can I not even leave these quarters?_

He realized what had happened.  
The strange, hyper-vigilant part of his brain had established these rooms as a safe place; giving him the false impression of being better when really he had just pushed the bad things away, associating them with the outside world.

_But it doesn't do any good to _know_._

He was incredibly frustrated with himself.  
Logically he _knew_ he wasn't really safer here than anywhere else- at least not anywhere else in the castle.  
He _knew_ no harm was likely to come to him whilst he was within these walls.  
Yet he still couldn't bring himself to get back up and go through the door.

_You can't let this ruin your life. Livenn is _dead._ Camelot needs you, _Arthur _needs you._

And really it was a miracle the king had survived so long without him.  
Probably only because he hadn't left the castle since the incident.

Then again, there was no need to face this _today_, was there?  
He _was_ pretty tired, after all...

Feeling secure in his rationalizations, Merlin took off his jacket and boots and hid under his blankets.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Bit of a breakthrough chapter here- the beginning of the end (yay!), though you won't really see it until next chapter.  
This chapter: Merlin continues to accept strange liquids from Gaius.

* * *

"How's he doing, Gaius?"

Arthur hadn't seen his friend for the past two days- ever since the physician had cleared him to travel about the castle.  
He seemed to have spent all of that time within his small room, not even coming out to eat or take his medicine.

"Physically he is doing well, but I fear he has taken a few steps backward emotionally."

The royal frowned.  
"Hasn't he been speaking with that scribe... Errol every day? Isn't it helping?"

"Oh, it's been doing a great deal of good for Errol, but I fear it has been making Merlin worse."  
The king's confused look prompted the old man to continue.

"You see, Errol serves as a distraction for Merlin. He can force himself to be strong for his fellow victim, bottling his own feelings up more firmly. He hadn't been having nightmares before; well, not as far as I could tell- but now he wakes up screaming every time he lays down to sleep. Errol has tried his best to get Merlin to open up, but you know how he can get when he wants to avoid talking about something."

"Unfortunately I do. And he still hasn't come out of his room?"

"No. I don't know what it is. He was excited when I first told him he could go out, but as soon as he stepped out the door he came back saying he was tired. It's been the same ever since- he's too tired, he has something he wants to do here... any excuse he can think of. I'm at a loss."

A vial on the worktable started smoking and Gaius was quick to tend to it.  
"Merlin! Time for your medicine."

An indistinct mumbling from the top of the steps indicated that, once again, the servant was not going to leave his lair.

The physician sighed.  
"Could you get the door, Sire? This will be precarious enough without having to worry about that as well..."

"Of course." Arthur sprang forward to clear the way as the old man walked very slowly and deliberately up the short flight of stairs into his ward's room.

Said ward had been sitting in the chair at his desk staring at his bed with a faraway look in his dark-circled eyes, but stood to accept the vial- which promptly slipped through his fingers.

Gaius only had time to half-shout a warning before the glass hit the floor and the contents exploded with a bright flash and loud 'bang', throwing the physician and servant backward. The old man landed safely on the bed, but Merlin had sprawled over his chair and was currently curled up clutching at his ribs.

Arthur just stared in shock at the hole in the floor, presently providing a nice view into the storage space below.

"_That's _what you meant by _'volatile'?"_  
There were plenty of other things he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to form any more complete sentences.

Gaius, meanwhile, had skirted around the hole and helped disentangle Merlin from the inconveniently-placed furniture.

"Are you alright?"

"Just hit my ribs... ugh." He went back to his former position- a miserable ball.

"I'll bring you something for the pain, just stay there."

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on going anywhere."  
His voice was strained and it took the king a moment to realize the odd sound filling the air was Merlin's slight laughter.

"_What_ are you laughing about?"  
The monarch asked, incredulous.

"Oh, you know, life."

He would've asked for clarification, but Gaius was back and he had to concede it was a bit difficult to answer questions when potions were being poured down your throat.

After the second appalling liquid hit his tongue Merlin glared at his surrogate father with suspicion.  
"Did you just drug me again?"

"I'm sorry Merlin, but I'm going to have to shift your rib back into place and it will be quite unpleasant. I'd rather be able to do it without worrying about fighting you."

The servant gave him a woozy stare.  
"_He_ drugged me, y'know. Would've exca- esp- gotten away iffy 'adn't."

Gaius paused in his attempt to get his nearly-limp patient off the floor.  
He thought he'd been helping Merlin by putting him to sleep, but had he been right?  
The boy _had_ been waking from a sleeping draught when he'd had that catastrophic reaction to Sir Gwaine...

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry."  
Stricken and feeling suddenly weary, the physician sank to the floor unable to continue his task.

Arthur stepped forward instead and hauled the servant to his feet, nearly over-balancing and falling into the hole as the king mostly-carried his friend over to the bed and settled him in a relatively comfortable position before he fell fully asleep.

"Gaius?"

"It's my fault- I'm the reason he isn't getting better."

"Gaius, you know that's not true."  
The king knelt in front of his mentor, grasping his arms lightly.  
"You are the reason Merlin is still alive at all. He _will_ get better, and we'll have you to thank."

Arthur pulled the elder to his feet.  
"These things take time, you know that. Everything you've done has been in his best interest and he knows that- or he will when he's more himself."

The old man turned half-pleading eyes toward his sovereign who pulled the man forward into a rough embrace.

"You've done nothing wrong, Gaius. Now, what can I do to help?"

Successfully brought back into 'physician mode', Gaius straightened and moved to the bedside as he issued the now-familiar instruction.

"Support him."

Lips quirking a bit at the word choice, Arthur took his place behind Merlin and lifted his shoulders and torso.

"_Always."_ He whispered into his friend's ear.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Arthur's starting to become a bit sappy, isn't he? ;)

For anyone who is curious: Gaius' remedy is nitroglycerin which is, in fact, used to treat heart conditions (it dilates the vessels to allow more blood into the heart and lower blood pressure). It didn't even exist until the 1800's and I fudged the details a bit, but hey, if the official _Merlin_ writers did that stuff why can't I? Just imagine the word 'dramatization' flashing at the bottom of the screen for the duration of the last chapter ;)

Finally: Our hero makes progress

* * *

Merlin woke in the early morning hours and was quick to light the table-full of candles he had taken to keeping at his bedside.  
Relaxing as the darkness retreated he once again laughed at himself.

_How foolish..._

Yes, it had been foolish to think- even subconsciously- that he was safe here.  
He glanced into the hole in the floor, then turned away from the inky blackness.

Even in his own room he nearly had his foot taken off by the medicine that was keeping him alive.

That being the case there was no reason to isolate himself.  
Rising stiffly from his cot he dressed for the day and began heading for the kitchens, a mischievous grin on his face.

Arthur was going to be woken early today whether he approved or not.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" A familiar voice crowed as light struck his eyelids.

"_Mer_lin..." he grumbled, then realized the significance of that utterance.  
"Merlin!"

"Yes, _Sire?_" The servant replied, snarky as always, crooked grin firmly in place.

"What are you doing here?"

"I should think that's obvious, Sire. I've brought your breakfast and laid out your clothes. Is it too much to hope you've learned to dress yourself during my absence?"

In all honesty, Arthur _had_ tried dressing himself the past few days but usually wound up needing Guinevere's help.

The queen, having retained the proper servant's habit of rising early, was currently out about the castle's business rather than being subjected to Merlin's forced levity.

And it clearly _was_ forced.  
The idiot was still favoring his ribs and, though the servant had tried to pass it off as banter, the earlier comment about dressing himself was likely an attempt to avoid having to touch the other man.

Arthur rose from the mattress.  
"Merlin-" a shirt smacked him in the face and interrupted his supplication.

The servant began righting the freshly-evacuated bed, wincing while managing to keep the king in sight and simultaneously avoid meeting his eyes.

"Merlin, stop." He grabbed the other end of the blanket Merlin was trying to strip.

Undeterred, the younger man moved to begin gathering the laundry from the floor.

"Merlin, you shouldn't be doing that, you'll-"

"I'm not weak, Arthur, I can handle this."

Something in that assertion struck the monarch as particularly significant.  
"I'm not saying you're weak, Merlin, merely injured. You can leave this for another servant. Come, share my breakfast with me."

"I don't need your coddling."

"I'm hardly _coddling_ you, _Mer_lin."

"You wouldn't share your food with _George_, would you?"

"No, but George isn't my friend."  
The other man's eyes narrowed in suspicion so he continued.  
"You are, Merlin. You're my friend- or, at least, I hope you are."

"I thought I was _almost_ _like_ a friend."

"Yes, well, as long as you promise not to tell my father I'm pretty sure we'll be alright."

"Seemed to me like he already knew..."

"Would you stop being difficult?"

"You know I couldn't do that- you'd get bored."

"Merlin, _sit down._"

"No."

"_Mer_lin." The king started forward and the servant stepped back, tripping over the forgotten laundry basket and tumbling toward the stone floor.

"Merlin!" Arthur grabbed his friend's arms without thinking and pulled him back upright, only to have his hands slapped away as the other man retreated into a corner and cowered.

He was muttering something to himself, watching the blond with fearful eyes as he huddled, seeming to be waging some internal battle.

"Merlin?" The king stepped forward hesitantly.  
Seeing no further reaction from the other man, he got closer and closer until he could hear what he was saying.  
A simple litany of similar phrases repeated over and over in a soft, shaky voice.

"You're not weak. You are _not_ helpless. You're stronger than this, Merlin- stop hiding. Just get up. Arthur's not going to hurt you. Stop being a coward."

"Oh Merlin..." The blond crouched down a few feet in front of his friend.  
"You're right- you're _not_ a coward. You're _not_ weak. You are one of the strongest men I know, and probably the bravest."

The servant's murmuring had died out as he listened to the king's assertions, eyes shining wetly.

"But Merlin, it's not weakness to accept help when you need it. And anyone would need help after going through something like that."

Merlin gave him a dubious look and Arthur sighed.

"You don't consider Errol weak, do you?"

"No, but he was- nothing actually _happened_ to me."  
His voice was small, pleading, _vulnerable_.

Arthur was incredulous.  
"_Nothing?_ Merlin, you were tortured- you almost _died!_"  
The servant flinched, a hand rising to his chest.

"Even if that weren't the case... Merlin, no one will blame you for what you feel. It was a horrible experience, and it only makes sense for you to be effected. I just wish- Merlin, just let me _help you._"

The servant shivered at the words and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Talk to me, Merlin."

Blue eyes snapped open, resolutely staring at the floor.  
"He drugged me- grabbed me from behind right outside of Gaius' door."

Arthur held his breath, horrified at what was being said; half unable to believe Merlin was finally opening up to him, half afraid he would say something to make his friend clam up again.

"When I woke up, I was tied to that table... I couldn't use my m-" he took a shuddering breath "couldn't use my arms or legs, couldn't move at all, really; and he... he used that ring on me... froze my mouth and throat so I couldn't yell- could hardly make a sound..."

Merlin continued speaking, never looking at Arthur as he stumbled over his words, slowly sharing his experience and feelings.

Without even realizing it the king had gotten nearer and nearer until he was sitting right next to his companion.  
Not touching, but offering silent support.

As his friend began to dissolve into a sobbing mess, Arthur turned his new knowledge over in his head.

It wasn't _what_ had happened that had effected Merlin most deeply, it was the fact that he hadn't been able to save himself.  
Something that struck Arthur as odd considering the servant's unofficial status as damsel-in-distress of the group.

But then again, Merlin always _had_ seemed to get himself out of scrapes largely unharmed.

Once again he found himself thinking about the scars on his manservant's chest.  
They seemed to indicate there was more to his humble friend than he had supposed.

But this was certainly not the time to bring those up- especially since Merlin had just taken hold of Arthur's shirt and was crying on his chest.  
He was shaking fit to rattle his bones, but still he clung to the royal.

"Merlin, you don't have to force yourself-"

"I know, I just... I _need_ this, Arthur."

So the king brought his arms up to embrace his friend, offering what comfort he could.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Briefly toyed with the idea of making this a reveal fic, but Merlin didn't quite let go _that_ much.  
Besides, there's still the scar reveal fallout to come!  
Following chapters will likely all be time jumps- little snapshots in the 'one month later' sort of vein (rather like this one).

* * *

It had been about two weeks since the attack, only a couple of days since Merlin had started talking about it. He had taken up a semblance of his old routine, waking up in the morning and going to Arthur's chambers where they ate breakfast together and talked until the servant wound up crying in the king's arms.  
It was hard, but it got better each time.

He was able and even somewhat glad to take up some of his old chores as well, though he mostly performed them in either his own room or the royal apartments.

Time spent with Errol was now mainly used for spell-work, though Merlin did share some of his experience with the younger man and they spent some time truly comforting each other.

The scribe himself had become apprentice to Geoffrey the librarian and was currently helping the man in writing some sort of history of Camelot. Merlin had also helped him make arrangements to spend a couple of days each week with Iseldir and his troop of druids, learning about his powers and the history of his people.

At this particular moment, the servant was seated on the floor of Arthur's chambers polishing his armor while the king surreptitiously observed him from behind his desk.

There was no doubt Merlin was improving, but there were still... _things_ he didn't understand.  
It was reasonable, of course, that the man was sensitive to cold and felt a need for areas to be brightly lit at night. He could even understand why the servant hadn't worn his signature neckerchief, removing the bandages Gaius had wrapped around his neck and refusing to let them be replaced.  
How could he forget, with the yellow bruises in the shape of Livenn's hands still faintly visible?

But why did he flinch every time Arthur said he wanted to help him?  
Was it simply that it reinforced his feeling of helplessness?  
That didn't seem right, but he just couldn't figure it out.

Deciding to face the problem head on, he rose from his desk and sat in front of his friend.

"Let me help you with that."  
He held out a hand for the extra polishing cloth.

The flinch this time was amplified by surprise- both at the offer and the royal's sudden appearance.

"Alright. What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That flinch. You do that every time I offer to help you."  
No flinch that time, but there may have been a shiver.

Merlin looked like he was weighing his options.

"There's no point in holding back now. I've already become unofficial guardian of your virtue and had two perfectly good shirts ruined by your sobbing and snuffling."

The teasing was a risk, but the servant responded as Arthur had hoped- rolling his eyes and sighing.

"I still hear him sometimes."

Arthur stiffened.

"Not like that, Arthur. They're like... quick flashes of memory. When someone says something related to what he said, when a situation is similar... I remember his voice." He _did_ shiver then, hugging himself lightly.

"You _do_ know he can't hurt you anymore- that he's dead and I'll never let _anything_ like that happen again?"  
The king had told Merlin everything that had happened; how he had killed Livenn and that his body had been taken by his family.  
His wife, having been abused herself, had also pledged to aid her husband's other victims.

"Of course I know that. The problem is that _knowing_ doesn't stop it from happening. That's one of the worst things about this, Arthur... I feel like I have no control over myself. I'll be fine one second and the next I'll be hiding under the bed."

He tossed the armor aside in frustration, staring at the floor.

"Hey, look at me." Blue eyes met blue and Arthur placed his hands lightly on the other man's shoulders.  
"You're doing _great._ These things take time, but everything will be fine eventually. Just try not to get impatient- that's _my_ job."

They exchanged hesitant smiles and continued the work together, Merlin tapping out the dents and Arthur making the metal shine.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: I'm about to explode from happiness :D Many thanks to my awesome readers/reviewers.  
Especially Veilwuarrah who seems to have read the whole thing last night and reviewed each chapter :)

A thought- one of the principle effects of PTSD is hyper-vigilance, but would Merlin even notice any difference in that arena?  
I think he was already at least half-way there.

In other news, I've been plagued by Merlin death-scenes lately.  
I have no intention of writing a death fic (well, that's not entirely true, but... well, that's for later), but some of them are quite good...  
Maybe it's more a reflection on my current feelings toward my job? (It _was_ a rough week...)  
Oh well, back to this little drama

-Just realized I have yet to show Gwen supporting Arthur... *chapter is hijacked*

* * *

Guinevere lay in bed, her husband in her arms where he had cried himself to sleep.

Today had been rough for Merlin and therefor rough for his primary comforter.  
The nightmares, which had almost completely stopped, came back with a vengeance the previous night and left the man pale, shaky, and nervous when he arrived to wake Arthur.

The king, already dragging himself from bed, had pulled out a chair and suggested he relax- an action which had the unfortunate effect of scaring the man witless, making him hyperventilate and nearly pass out again.

Luckily he had just taken his medicine (Gaius now made sure to keep a firm hold of it until his ward had drunk it all) and a heart attack was avoided.  
Still, once he had regained a semblance of stability he fled back to his room and remained there for the rest of the day refusing visitors.

Arthur, as had become his routine, told his queen everything as they lay in bed together.

"What if he stays like this forever, Guinevere? What if- what if I've lost him after all?"

"Shhh... He's getting better, Arthur. You've been telling me that yourself. You still have Merlin."

"But what if this is as good as he'll ever be?"

"Then we'll adjust. _He's_ _still_ _Merlin_, just with a few more... quirks."

The king chuckled humorlessly.  
"They're more than just _quirks_, Guinevere."

He sighed.  
"What if I'm doing something wrong? What if I'm making him worse?"

"Arthur-"

"I don't know what I'm doing, I don't- I've never been so uncertain in all my life and this is so important, one mistake and-"

"_Ar_thur!"

The sharp tone of his wife's interruption managed to temporarily banish the frenzy he'd been working himself into.

"You're doing the best you can, and you are doing _great._ You know Merlin better than anyone. _You're_ the one who got him to speak. _You_ are the person he comes to every day. Have more confidence."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough for this, Guinevere..."

"Well _I_ do. You're the strongest person I know, Arthur- except for Merlin, of course."

The blond's lips twitched into a half-smile.  
"Of course."

They had continued on like that, going back and forth until the king had broken down, sobbing himself into slumber against Gwen's chest.

Brushing her husband's fringe from his forehead, she kissed it gently and hugged him closer.  
Just as Arthur was there for Merlin she would be there for Arthur- as it should be.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Look at that, 200+ reviews. *sniff* I'd like to thank God and my parents...  
Yeah, I love you guys. The _Merlin_ fandom is the best :)

* * *

It had been almost two months since the incident and Merlin's physical injuries were almost completely healed.  
The dead skin had mostly peeled from the frostbitten areas of its own accord, the only remaining sign of it being the small black spot on the servant's left breast.

To the relief of everyone involved, the volatile potion was no longer necessary and Merlin's heart seemed to have healed itself (though Gaius suspected it was more due to the warlock's magic). He still tired rather easily, but the physician expected that to go away eventually.

Today the last of the bandages were coming off- his broken rib essentially healed.  
Merlin was ecstatic; Gaius, however, was filled with trepidation for today was also the day his ward would see the marks left upon him by Livenn's blade.

He had, of course, caught glimpses of the smaller ones scattered about; but was previously unable to bend enough to realize that some of the lines formed an intentional design.

"Ready?"

"Of course I am, Gaius. I haven't been able to breathe properly for weeks!"

The elder nodded and began unwinding the linen- Arthur and Gwen watching on with the queen clasping the hand mirror Merlin had requested to borrow.

As the last layer came off the servant made a show of breathing deeply; then released a heavy breath, steeling himself as he reached for the mirror.

Guinevere pulled back a little, keeping just out of reach.  
"Merlin, are you sure you want to-"

"I'm sure, Gwen. I'll have to face it eventually."  
He stretched his hand out and she passed the item over, watching him sympathetically.

Tilting the reflective surface he took in every inch of his torso, freezing when he reached his left ribs.

"What is that?" He asked, voice emotionless.

"A snake, raised to strike. It was Livenn's personal device."  
The king responded reluctantly.

The servant's face clouded with what Arthur could only interpret as rage- something he had never seen before, despite all that had already happened.

"Thank you, my lady." He said, carefully returning the mirror.  
"If you all would excuse me, I'd like some time to myself."

Without waiting for a reply he turned on his heel and retreated to his room, knowing no one would follow.  
It had become an unspoken rule that Merlin would remain undisturbed in his own chambers, allowing it to be a safe haven for the ailing man.

Closing the door, he whispered a quick spell to insure no sound would pass to the main space- something he had perfected during this time of clandestine magic lessons and private sessions of sobbing or screaming.

The warlock paced for a few moments, muttering to himself and casting occasional appraising glances at his chest.

Sitting on his bed, he reached under the mattress and withdrew a fabric bundle.  
He had found it on Gaius' workbench several weeks ago and felt the urge to take it for some perverse reason he couldn't understand even now.

Unwinding the frayed cloth he stared once more at the cold metal of Livenn's knife, holding it gingerly at both ends and twirling it absently.

He looked over to his desk and the neckerchief that had been waiting there for the past two months.

Making up his mind he rose, leaving the knife on the bed, and snatched up the scarf before folding it deftly and placing it between his teeth- this was going to _hurt._  
He took up the blade and pointed it toward his chest, body contorted so he could see the shape on his skin... and sighed.

No, he couldn't use it, poetic as it may be.

Tossing the weapon aside he placed his right hand over the mark.  
He knew his spell book would have no incantation for this, so he simply _willed_ his magic to do as he desired.

_Time to give this snake some wings._


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Apparently people haven't been getting update alerts for this story- I recommend checking every night even if you don't get an email ;) Sunday through Wednesday chapters won't be posted until about 9 pm (GMT-5). Though now that I've said that... there probably won't be any updates Thursday-Sunday as I will be visiting family. Sorry. Then again, maybe I'll have it finished before that point (don't expect it, but it may happen).

Bit of influence from Ocean Mint Leaves' _Through Other Eyes_ snuck into this (chapters 6,7,9, and 10- "Going Under"). You all should read it, it's good stuff :)

* * *

Merlin made his way to the royal chambers, two breakfast plates balanced precariously in his hands.  
Things were looking brighter today than they had in some time, despite yesterday's discovery.

The servant kicked open the door and swept into the room, depositing his burden on the table before moving to fling open the curtains with gusto.

"Good morning, Sire! Time to greet the day!"

Arthur mumbled something rude into the pillows, snuggling deeper to shut out the light.

_If his people could see him now..._

"Come on, get up- you've got a busy day ahead! Meetings to sit through, training to skip, breakfast to eat..."

Receiving no response, Merlin proceeded to drag the king from his bed.  
The blond flung out his arms to anchor himself to the mattress but instead managed to hit his servant's left side.

Merlin grunted, promptly dropping the royal onto the floor and grasping at his ribs.  
He had cauterized the fresh cuts so there would be no bleeding, but that didn't lessen the pain of contact.

Arthur was instantly awake and alert, leaping to his feet.  
"I'm sorry! Did I damage your ribs again? Wait here, I'll get Gaius..."

"Arthur- Arthur! Calm down! It's fine, they're just a little tender. Must've slept on them wrong or something."

The king gave him a measuring glance.  
"Well, if you're certain..."

"I'm certain. Now come get dressed and eat your food."  
As he moved to the wardrobe and selected the royal outfit of the day, Merlin felt a trickle of warmth running down his side and cursed internally.

The cuts had reopened.  
He pressed his shirt against the wound, glad his jacket would conceal the bloody fabric.

A few moments later saw them both seated at the table enjoying their vittles.

Arthur watched Merlin intently for a short time before commenting almost nonchalantly.  
"You realize you've been holding your side this entire time?"

The servant started- no, he had_ not_ noticed- and withdrew his hand from under his coat without thinking.

"Merlin!"

"What?"  
He looked at his hand and, seeing the redness on his fingers, tucked it under the table.

"Merlin, what are you hiding?"  
The monarch seemed caught between worry and anger, his expression a bit pouty.

The servant considered trying to avoid the issue, but sighed instead.  
He had come to enjoy his and Arthur's new level of trust and friendship- he didn't want to damage it now.

Instead of speaking he simply removed his jacket and raised his tunic to reveal the form of a dragon, blood leaking slowly from the wings where the scabs had been rubbed off.

Arthur stared at the mark, completely unsure how to react.  
He felt horrified and oddly touched at the same time.

"What-" he started, unable to finish the question.  
_No, I can't just ask him what that's supposed to mean..._  
"Why-?"

Merlin chose to be merciful and answered without needing to hear a proper question.

"If I'm to bear this scar for the rest of my life, I want it to be something that has meaning to me."  
He took a deep breath and continued, avoiding the king's eyes.

"If I am to have anyone's mark upon me I want it to be the man I've dedicated my life to."

Arthur wanted to call his friend a girl in that moment, but the words stuck in his throat.  
Instead he reached across the table and placed his hands on his companion's shoulders, bowing his head slightly to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

Merlin gave him a fond smile, releasing his shirt to place his hands over top the king's.

They stayed like that for a while before the blond cleared his throat and straightened, sniffing softly.

"Merlin... you don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but... when you were..."  
He stopped, taking a deep breath and releasing it all in a huff.

"I- I saw your scars, Merlin. The old ones."

The servant froze in his seat.

"_Looks like this isn't the first time you've been someone's plaything."_

The king was gazing determinately away from his friend, so he didn't notice the reaction.  
"I was just... how did you get them?"

_"How did you get all these, I wonder?"_

Arthur _did_ look then and noticed Merlin gripping the table with white knuckles, eyes wide and distant.

"No, forget I even asked, I don't need to know, Merlin. Merlin?"  
The king stood and circled 'round the table to place a grounding hand on his friend's arm.

The servant jumped in surprise at the contact, head swiveling toward the other man where his gaze settled and regained focus.

"No."  
He said breathily, swallowing before trying again.

"No, I'll tell you."  
_More or less..._

"I said I had dedicated my life to you, Arthur, and I meant it. As part of that, there are sometimes... _things_ I have to take care of; things I do in secret to keep you and Camelot safe."

Arthur thought of the situation with Agravaine and the siege tunnels, of the way Merlin always seemed to know what was going on and always seemed to be in the thick of things. His face fell.

"Merlin, I don't want you sacrificing yourself like that... you're not even a warrior- you can't be expected to-"

"I don't do it out of duty, Arthur. You say I am not a warrior, but I have been fighting most of my life in one way or another; and I have killed... so many."  
His face clouded with grief. He didn't regret his actions, he had only ever done what was needed to keep Arthur safe, but he still wished there had been other ways of achieving that end.

"Men, women... I almost killed a child once."

The king was listening silently, full of sorrow and regret.  
_How could Merlin have gone through this alone?  
How had he not noticed?  
Why hadn't Merlin _told_ him?_

Actually that wasn't too surprising.  
The man could be infuriatingly self-sacrificing; even wanting to spare other people from _worry_ let alone physical harm.  
Being threatened with exile had probably killed off any chance that remained of him bringing things to Arthur.

"Surely-" his voice was hoarse.  
"Surely someone else could have helped, could have done these things for you?"

The servant smiled back at him sadly.  
"I'm afraid my particular set of skills was required, Sire."

"Like juggling?"  
Arthur asked, desperately trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

A light laugh echoed in response.  
"In a way."

He had wanted to say something mocking about Merlin having no skills, but once again couldn't seem to form the words.  
He knew they weren't true; Merlin had always been brave to the point of recklessness, was clever and even wise on occasion.  
There was also that undefinable quality of his that drew people to him, such that he made friends almost instantly.  
The king could even admit that the idiot had managed to gain some small amount of skill with a sword over the years, and he was a fair shot with a crossbow.

Still, why Merlin?

The monarch, being stubborn himself, knew that Merlin was his match in that arena and, looking at his face now, was fully aware that anything he said would not dissuade the man from doing whatever he felt necessary in future.

He wanted to command his servant to share his burdens, but when had Merlin ever done as he was told?

"I don't want to see you hurt, Merlin. I wish you didn't have to do these things."

"I don't regret it."

Arthur looked at him searchingly.

"My actions have kept you and Camelot safe. Every scar I bear is a wound spared someone else. I certainly don't enjoy obtaining them, but I would take a thousand more before seeing another in my place."

The king pulled his friend into a warm embrace, tears dripping onto the other's shoulder.  
"Why does it have to be you?"

"Destiny" was the whispered response, though the king could sense so much more behind that word.  
_Because I'm your friend, because Camelot is my home, because I can't stand aside and allow others to be hurt..._

Arthur hugged him more tightly.  
"Read that in a book, did you?"

"Something like that."  
Merlin pulled back and shrugged his jacket on.

"Besides, who else would have the patience to put up with such a dollop head?"

The servant snatched up the empty plates and dashed off, cackling madly at the exasperated look on the king's tear-stained face.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Awww... thanks guys :) As soon as I posted the last chapter I had the immediate impulse to take it back down. I kept thinking "oh, I should have done _this_, I could have done _that_, I didn't even _mention_ that"- I was a mess. But I had gone to bed right after posting so it was easier to convince myself to leave it up when doing otherwise would mean getting out from under my comfy blankets ;)

I think canon-Arthur would be disgusted by (and a bit jealous of) the way my Arthur has been speaking and behaving; particularly these cheesy lines he's been spouting ;)

And now, because an anonymous reviewer asked for it: MORE HUGGING.

* * *

Arthur had long known he needed Merlin, and it had been true for even longer.  
Still, he had never suspected just _how much_ the man did for him.

Pick out his clothes? Every day.  
Give him surprisingly excellent advice? Occasionally.  
Muck out his stables? Whenever he was annoyed.

But defying sorcerers alone and in secret? Foiling his sister's plans? Disposing of assassins?  
These were things he simply would never have thought to attribute to the unassuming man beside him.

The two were now seated on a cushioned bench before the fire, the manservant once again shirtless as Arthur inquired about each mark.

He had started with the insignificant ones, enjoying Merlin's embarrassed admission that not _all_ of his scars were the result of daring-do.  
What followed were mostly-humorous tales of falling whilst carrying breakables, slipping as he sharpened weapons, and tripping dramatically over air.

As things continued on, however, the answers grew shorter until most were simply one word or a name.

"This one?"

"Assassin."

"This one?"

"Sorcerer."

"This one?"

"...stray tree branch."

Arthur grinned.  
"This one?" He lightly touched a faint line on the back of the man's neck.

Merlin shivered. He had born Arthur's touch thus far, similar to Livenn's attentions as it had been, but the memory of what caused that particular mark was too much to contain.

"We can stop if you need to..." The king said softly.

"It's not that... it was Morgana."

Arthur sucked in a breath.  
He wanted to ask for the details, but it was clear this was not an experience Merlin wanted to relive.  
"How about this?"

"Assassin. I think he may also have been a sorcerer."

"And this?"

"Ah... hm... not sure."

"Merlin, it's fine if you don't want to answer, but don't lie to me."

"Really, Arthur, I-"

"_Mer_lin."

"... It was you."

"What?" It was a rather nasty mark across his shoulder and chest, fairly long and jagged.

"During one of our sparring sessions..." and it was very generous to label them thusly, "my armor buckled under one of your hits, cut into me a bit."

"A bit? Merlin, this was a serious wound!"

"It wasn't _that_ bad."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

The younger sighed.  
"With all honesty, Sire, this happened soon after I became your servant and I didn't think you'd care."

Arthur frowned. Unfortunately, he couldn't fault the man for thinking so.  
Even _he _wasn't sure he would have given it a thought past telling the man to go to Gaius before tending to the equipment.

He put his arm around his friend's shoulder.  
"You know you can tell me about those sorts of things _now_, right?"

"Of course- though it's been a while since you've beaten me quite _that_ badly."  
Merlin had no illusions that his own skill was in any way to credit for that.

Arthur ruffled the servant's dark hair, mind now turning to the scar he'd wanted to ask about from the start.  
"This burn, how did you get it?"

One pale hand rose to cover the distorted flesh, eyes gaining a faraway look.  
"Nimueh."

The royal was surprised.  
"That sorceress? We haven't heard from her in years..."

The servant's eyes had an odd glint to them as he answered.  
"Well that's not surprising since I killed her."

"What?"  
Of all the things Merlin had said so far this was probably the most shocking, in various ways.

"I- I was so _angry._.. she... tried to kill Gaius."  
The man's tone was distant, his mind clearly back in that moment.

Arthur didn't want to imagine Merlin angry.

He had seen only a brief glimpse of what fury looked like on that face and he never wanted to witness it again.  
And for Gaius to be threatened? The two of them were closer than Arthur and his father had ever been.  
He remembered how out-of-control the man had become when Agravaine had accused Gaius of being a traitor.  
No, the king was glad he hadn't been present for that particular event.

Still, _how had _Mer_lin killed her?_

He hadn't meant to ask the question aloud, and didn't realize he had until his friend answered in a strained voice with eyes averted.

"Please don't ask that... I don't want to lie to you, but I can't tell you this now."

The phrasing gave Arthur some hope.  
"But you will tell me in the future?"

Merlin met his gaze, expression unfathomable, then nodded.  
"Yes, I will tell you eventually. This just isn't the right time."  
_I need you to be on my side right now._  
"It'll change things, and I want- I _need_ things to be the same."

He chuckled slightly as if he had just made the realization- and perhaps he had, as the words slipped past his lips unguarded.  
"I _need_ _you_."

Arthur pulled Merlin into another fierce embrace, protective and reassuring at once.  
"And you have me, Merlin. _Always._"


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I now realize there's a bit of a Merthur vibe going on, but no, I don't write slash. Just super-fluffy bromance here (or, more accurately, 'there') ^_^

So this is it, the last chapter- with the last line to end all last lines *rolls eyes at self*  
If I left out something you wanted to know about, just say so and I'll enlighten you :)

It's been great guys, and I hope you'll read and enjoy my other stories as well ;)  
But for now: so long and thanks for all the reviews!

* * *

Time passed and Merlin, to all appearances, returned to normal.  
He started out small, coming to training sessions and simply observing; then he began to approach his friends one at a time, catching up with the goings-on in their lives and assuring them he was okay.

Eventually he was back to 'life as usual'; doing chores for Arthur and Gaius, going out on missions with the king and his knights, secretly vanquishing magical threats.

And if he woke with a start in the middle of the woods while on patrol and needed time to himself; the knight on duty always allowed him his privacy without comment.  
On those occasions when someone came upon him unawares and frightened the man witless, no one mocked him- though Merlin almost wished they would.

Gwaine had been excessively apologetic, half-avoiding the servant out of guilt for quite some time after his recovery.  
Merlin had been forced to prank the man, pretending to faint on the training grounds so he could surprise the knight who rushed over to check on him in a panic.  
Gwaine had nearly jumped out of his skin and clutched at his chest while the younger man laughed.  
He knew it was a bit cruel, but a somber and penitent Gwaine had been too much to deal with.

"There, now we're even."

He had barely managed to get the words out before he was pulled into a crushing embrace, long brown hair blowing across his face as broad shoulders shook slightly against him.

"Never do that again."

Merlin knew the man was referring to more than his play-acting.  
"Of course."

Gwaine straightened and slapped him on the back.  
"Good to see you well again, my friend."

"Yeah" he agreed, smiling at the knight "it's good to see you all again."

And just like that all was right with the world.

The rogue grinned.  
"I think this calls for a celebration. To the tavern!"

* * *

They hadn't gone to the tavern in the middle of the afternoon, but they _had_ gone that night.  
In fact, it became a weekly occurrence- though Merlin rarely drank; instead preferring to take advantage of his companions' inebriation to fill his pockets a bit.

He might've felt guilty, but he knew his friends would gladly give him money should he ask- at least this way he had earned it... sort of.

It was on one of the rare nights he had gotten moderately drunk that it happened.

He and Gwaine had been stumbling home together, but the brunet had fallen over a short time before and Merlin had yet to properly notice when an arm darted out from an alleyway and pulled the young man into its dark confines, a meaty hand clamping over his mouth.

His hazed mind was quick to draw parallels, especially when his abductor began to speak.

"Well, ain't ye a pretty one?

"_Beautiful."_

The warlock was sobering quickly and began struggling against the restraining arms.  
There must have been at least two of them as a hand now raised to caress his face.

"This 'uns got some fight in 'im- should be _fun_."

"_It's good to have a __little__ sport, after all." _

And that was enough.  
Merlin closed his eyes and sent a wave of power out in a circle around him, hoping he didn't damage anything of importance as the space had been too dark for him to see what he was attacking.

He heard several crashes and the cries of three men as he swiveled to face the light at the end of the alley, running before he even had time to consider the possible consequences of his actions.

Gwaine, still a bit unsteady but mostly alert, was dashing toward the racket when he caught sight of his wide-eyed friend.

"What happened?"

Panting slightly in reaction, Merlin answered between breaths.  
"Men- attacked me- at least three..."

He left off any mention of how he had gotten away, figuring less was more in this case.

"Guards!" The knight called, seizing a torch from its stand and using it to lighten the alley- which was now empty aside from some ruined barrels.

Gwaine cursed as four guards ran up and saluted, respectfully waiting for orders.  
"Three, perhaps more men, have just attacked Merlin and escaped from this alley- give chase and arrest them."

The guards nodded and took off, pikes at the ready.

"They probably won't catch anyone. I couldn't even _see_ them myself."  
The servant said, breathing and heart rate having returned to their normal levels.

"No, it's good to give them something to do every once and a while."  
He turned his attention back to the thin man.  
"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, they didn't hurt me or anything."

"No, I mean... _are you alright?_"  
Gwaine gave him a meaningful look.

Merlin gave him a crooked grin.  
"Yeah, I am."


End file.
